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OliCGIGi^IiJ 


BX  9178  .S45  S42 

Shedd,  William  Greenough 

Thayer,  1820-1894.  i 

Sermons  to  the  spiritual  man^ 


BY    THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 


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SERMONS 


SPIRITUAL    MAN. 


BT 

WILLIAM   G.  T.  SHEDD,  D.D., 

K003EVELT  PROFESSOR  OF  SYSTEMATIC  THEOLOGY  IN    UNION   THEOLOGICAX 
SEMINARY,   NEW  YORK. 


NEW  YORK : 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS. 

1884. 


Copyright,  18S4,  by 
WILLIAM   a.   T.    SHEDD. 


TROWS 

PniNTINQ  AND  BOOKBINOINQ  COMPANY, 

NEW  YORK. 


PREFATOEY  NOTE. 


This  volume  is  complementary  to  another,  published  in 
1871,  under  the  title  of  "  Sermons  to  the  Natural  Man."  In 
the  earlier  volume,  the  author  aimed  to  address  the  human 
conscience.  In  this,  he  would  speak  to  the  Christian  heart. 
The  former  supposed  original  and  unpardoned  sin,  and  en- 
deavored to  produce  the  consciousness  of  it.  The  latter 
supposes  forgiven  and  indwelling  sin,  and  would  aid  in  the 
struggle  and  victory  over  it.  The  writer  has  had  evidence, 
both  from  this  country  and  from  abroad,  that  theological 
sermonizing  and  the  close  application  of  truth  are  not  so 
unwelcome  and  unpopular,  as  they  are  sometimes  represented 
to  be.  This  encourages  him  to  hope  that  the  present  volume, 
which  takes  a  wider  range,  and  brings  to  view  the  experi- 
ences and  aspirations  of  the  regenerate  believer,  may  find  a 
yet  larger  class  of  sympathetic  readers.  At  the  same  time, 
the  author  is  well  aware  that  both  volumes  are  out  of  all 
keeping  with  some  existing  tendencies  in  the  religious  world. 
But  these  tendencies  are  destined  to  disappear,  whenever 
the  blind  guides  shall  cease  to  lead  the  blind,  and  honest 
self-knowledge  shall  take  the  place  of  self-flattery  and  re- 
ligious delusion.  That  this  will  happen,  is  as  certain  as  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  has  not  forsaken  the  world  for  which  God 
incarnate  died,  but  will,  in  His  own  way,  again  search  and 
illumine  the  human  soul,  as  in  "  the  times  of  refreshing  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord." 

Union  THEOLooicAii  Seminaky,  Nkw  York, 
April  15,  1884. 


..>- 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON  I. 

PAGE 

Religious  Meditation 1 


SERMON  II. 
Christian  Moderation 19 

SERMON  III. 
The  Supreme  Excellence  of  God 34 

SERMON  IV. 
The  Fatherhood  of  God 50 

SERMON  V. 
The  Future  Vision  of  God 69 

SERMON  VI. 
God  the  Strength  of  Man 83 

SERMON  VII. 
The  Glorification  of  God 95 

SERMON  VIII. 
The  Duty  of  Reference  to  the  Divine  Will 116 

SERMON  IX. 
The  Creature  has  no  Absolute  Merit 129 


iv  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  X. 

PAGE 

Faith  With,  and  Without  Sight 153 

SERMON  XI. 
The  Reality  of  Heaven 167 

SERMON  XII. 
Pure  Motives  the  Light  op  the  Soul 181 

SERMON  XIII. 
The  Law  is  Light 194 

SERMON  XIV. 
The  Law  is  the  Strength  of  Sin 210 

SERMON  XV. 
The  Sense  of  Sin  leads  to  Holiness,  and  the  Conceit  of 
Holiness  leads  to  Sin 225 

SERMON  XVI. 
The  Impression  made  by  Christ's  Holiness 241 

SERMON  XVII. 
Christian  Humility 256 

SERMON  XVIII. 
Pride  vitiates  Religious  Knowledge 272 

SERMON  XIX. 
Connection  between  Faith  and  Works 286 

SERMON  XX. 
The  Christian  Imperfect,  yet  a  Saint 302 

SERMON  XXI. 
Sanctification  Completed  at  Death 315 


CONTENTS.  V 


SEEMON  XXII. 

PAGE 

Watchfulness  and  Prayerfulness 329 


SERMON  XXIII. 
Unceasing  Prayer 346 

SERMON  XXIV. 
The  Folly  op  Ambition 371 

SERMON  XXV. 
Every  Christian  a  Debtor  to  the  Pagan 385 

SERMON  XXVI. 
The  Certain  Success  of  Evangelistic  Labor 400 


SERMONS 


SERMON  I. 

RELIGIOUS  MEDITATION. 


Psalm  civ.  34. — "  My  meditation  of  Him  shall  be  sweet. 


There  is  no  being  with  whom  man  stands  in  such  close 
and  important  relations  as  with  the  invisible  God,  and  yet 
there  is  no  being  with  whom  he  finds  it  so  difficult  to 
have  communication.  The  earth  he  can  see  and  touch. 
His  fellow-man  he  can  look  in  the  eye  and  speak  to.  But 
"  no  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time."  Century  after 
century  passes  by,  and  the  Highest  utters  no  voice  that  is 
audible  to  the  outward  ear.  Thousands  and  millions  of 
human  supplications  are  sent  up  to  Him  who  dwells  in  the 
heavens,  but  the  heavens  are  not  rent,  no  deity  comes 
down,  and  no  visible  sign  is  made.  The  skies  are  silent. 
The  impenetrable  vail  between  man's  body  and  God's 
spirit  is  not  withdrawn  even  for  an  instant. 

As  this  continues  to  be  the  case  generation  after  gener- 
ation, and  century  after  century,  it  is  natural  that  those 
who  know  of  nothing  but  an  external  and  visible  commu- 
nication between  themselves  and  their  Maker  should  be- 
come sceptical  concerning  his  actual  existence.  Like  the 
1 


2  RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION. 

pagan  idolater,  they  demand  a  God  who  can  be  seen  and 
handled.  Like  him,  too,  they  hanker  after  prodigies  and 
wonders,  and  desire  to  be  put  into  palpable  communica- 
tion with  the  Celestial  Powers.  "  This  generation  seeketh 
after  a  sign."  It  is  not  surprising,  consequently,  that  the 
natural  man,  finding  no  response  to  his  passionate  and 
baffled  attempts  to  penetrate  the  invisible  and  eternal  by 
the  method  of  the  five  senses,  falls  into  unbelief,  and 
concludes  in  his  heart  that  a  deity  who  never  shows  him- 
self has  no  real  being. 

Thus  the  natural  tendency  of  all  men  who  hold  no 
prayerful  and  spiritual  communication  with  their  Maker 
is  to  atheism,  so  long  as  they  live  in  a  world  where  he 
makes  no  external  displays  of  his  person  and  his  presence. 
A  time  is  indeed  coming,  when  an  outward  vision  of  God 
will  break  upon  them  so  palpable  and  evident  that  they 
will  call  upon  the  rocks  and  mountains  to  cover  them  from 
it ;  but  until  that  time  they  are  liable  to  a  scepticism 
which  often  renders  it  difficult,  even  when  they  make 
some  efforts  to  the  contrary,  to  believe  that  there  is  a 
God. 

But  the  child  of  God — the  believing,  the  spiritual,  the 
prayerful  man — is  delivered  from  this  atheism.  For  he 
knows  of  an  intercourse  with  his  Maker,  which,  though 
unattended  by  signs  and  wonders,  by  palpability  and  tan- 
gibility for  the  bodily  senses,  is  as  real  and  convincing  as 
anything  outward  or  visible  can  be.  He  has  experienced 
the  forgiveness  of  sin,  and  found  the  disquieting  remorse 
of  his  soul  displaced  by  the  peace  of  God  in  his  conscience, 
and  the  love  of  God  in  his  heart.  He  has  known  the 
doubts  and  fears  of  a  sick  bed  to  give  way  before  God's 
inward  assurance  of  mercy  and  acceptance.  He  has  been 
in  a  horror  of  great  mental  darkness,  and  into  that  black 
void  of  his  soul  God  has  suddenly  made  a  precious  prom- 


RELIGIOUS  MEDITATION.  3 

ise,  or  a  comforting  truth  of  his  word,  to  shine  out  clear, 
distinct,  and  glittering,  like  a  star  shooting  up  into  a  mid- 
night sky.  He  has  had  love,  and  peace,  and  joy,  and  the 
whole  throng  of  devout  and  spiritual  affections,  flow  in  cur- 
rents through  his  naturally  hard  and  parched  soul,  at  the 
touch  of  a  Spirit,  at  the  breath  of  a  Being,  not  of  earth  or 
of  time.  And  perhaps  more  convincing  than  all,  he  has 
offered  up  prayers  and  supplications,  with  strong  crying  and 
tears,  for  a  strength  that  was  not  in  himself  but  which  he 
must  get  or  die,  for  a  blessing  that  his  hungry  famine- 
struck  soul  must  obtain  or  be  miserable,  and  has  been 
heard  in  that  he  feared.  Thus  the  Christian's  belief  in  the 
Divine  existence  is  a  vital  one.  In  a  higher  sense  than 
that  of  the  poet,  it  is  "  felt  in  the  blood,  and  felt  along  the 
heart."  It  is  part  and  particle  of  his  consciousness,  waning 
only  as  his  religious  experience  wanes,  and  dying  only 
when  that  deathless  thing  shall  die. 

Yet  there  are  fluctuations  in  the  Christian's  faith  and 
sense  of  God.  He  needs  to  school  and  train  himself  in 
this  reference.  God  himself  has  appointed  instrumentali' 
ties  by  which  to  keep  the  knowledge  of  himself  pure,  clear, 
and  bright  in  the  souls  of  his  children,  "  until  the  day  break 
and  the  shadows  flee  away ; "  and  among  them  is  the  habit 
of  devout  reflection  upon  his  being  and  attributes. 

The  uses  of  religious  meditation  upon  God,  to  which 
we  are  urged  by  both  the  precept  and  the  example  of  the 
Psalmist,  may  be  indicated  in  the  three  following  propo- 
sitions :  1.  Meditation  upon  God  is  a  lofty  and  elevating 
act,  because  God  is  infinite  in  his  being  and  perfections. 
2.  It  is  a  sanctifying  act,  because  God  is  holy  in  his  nature 
and  attributes.  3,  It  is  a  blessed  act  of  the  mind,  because 
God  is  infinitely  blessed,  and  communicates  of  his  fulness 
of  joy  to  all  who  contemplate  it. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  meditation  upon  God  is  a  high  and 


4  RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION. 

elevating  mental  act,  because  of  the  immensity  of  the 
Object.  "  Behold  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain 
thee,"  said  the  awe-struck  Solomon.  "  God  is  a  most  pure 
spirit,  immutable,  immense,"  says  the  Creed.  Reflection 
upon  that  which  is  infinite  tends  of  itself  to  enlarge  and 
ennoble.  Meditation  upon  that  which  is  immense  produces 
a  lofty  mood  of  mind.  This  is  true  even  of  merely  material 
immensity.  He  who  often  looks  up  into  the  firmament, 
and  views  the  great  orbs  that  fill  it,  and  the  great  move- 
ments that  take  place  in  it,  will  come  to  possess  a  spirit 
akin  to  this  material  grandeur — for  the  astronomical  spirit 
is  a  lofty  one — while  he  who  keeps  his  eyes  upon  the 
ground,  and  looks  at  nothing  but  his  little  plot  of  earth, 
and  his  own  little  life  with  its  little  motions,  will  be  apt  to 
possess  a  spirit  grovelling  like  the  things  he  lives  among, 
and  mean  like  the  dirt  he  treads  upon.  Says  the  thought- 
ful and  moral  Schiller : '  "  The  vision  of  unlimited  dis- 
tances and  immeasurable  heights,  of  the  great  ocean  at  his 
feet  and  the  still  greater  ocean  above  him,  draws  man's 
spirit  away  from  the  narrow  sphere  of  sense,  and  from  the 
oppressive  stricture  of  physical  existence.  A  grander  rule 
of  measurement  is  held  out  to  him  in  the  simple  majesty 
of  Nature,  and  environed  by  her  great  forms  he  can  no 
longer  endure  a  little  and  narrow  way  of  thinking.  Who 
knows  how  many  a  bright  thought  and  heroic  resolve, 
which  the  student's  chamber  or  the  academic  hall  never 
would  have  originated,  has  been  started  out  by  this  lofty 
struggle  of  the  soul  with  the  great  spirit  of  Nature ;  who 
knows  whether  it  is  not  in  part  to  be  ascribed  to  a  less  fre- 
quent intercourse  with  the  grandeur  of  the  material  world, 
that  the  mind  of  man  in  cities  more  readily  stoops  to  trifles, 
and  is  crippled  and  weak,  while  the  mind  of  the  dweller 

'  Ueber  das  Erhabene. 


EELIGIOUS   MEDITATION.  5 

beneath  the  broad  sky  remains  open  and  free  as  the  firma- 
ment under  which  it  lives."  ' 

But  if  this  is  true  of  the  immensity  of  Nature,  much 
more  is  it  of  the  immensity  of  God.  If  the  sight  of  the 
heavens  and  the  stars,  of  the  earth  and  the  vast  seas,  has  a 
natural  tendency  to  elevate  and  ennoble  the  human  intel- 
lect, much  more  will  the  vision  granted  only  to  the  pure  in 
heart — the  vision  of  the  infinite  Being  who  made  all  these 
things — exalt  the  soul  above  all  the  created  universe.  For 
the  immensity  of  God  is  the  immensity  of  mind.  The  in- 
finity of  God  is  an  infinity  of  truth,  of  purity,  of  justice, 
of  mercy,  of  love,  and  of  glory.  When  the  human  intel- 
lect perceives  God,  it  beholds  what  the  heaven  of  heavens 
does  not  possess  and  cannot  contain.  His  grandeur  and 
plenitude  is  far  above  that  of  material  creation ;  for  he  is 
the  source  and  the  free  power  whence  it  all  came.  The 
magnificence  and  beauty  of  the  heavens  and  earth  are  the 
work  of  his  fingers  ;  and  there  is  nothing  which  the  bodily 
sense  can  apprehend,  by  day  or  by  night,  however  sublime 
and  glorious  it  may  be,  that  is  not  infinitely  inferior  to  the 
excelling,  transcending  glory  of  God. 

It  is  one  of  the  many  injuries  which  sin  does  to  man, 
that  it  degrades  him.  It  excludes  him  from  the  uplifting 
vision  of  the  Creator,  and  causes  him  to  expend  his  mental 
force  upon  inferior  objects — upon  money,  houses,  lands, 
titles,  and  "  the  bubble  reputation."  Sin  imprisons  man 
within  narrow  limitations,  and  thus  dwarfs  him.  And  it 
is  one  of  the  consequences  of  his  regeneration  that  he  is 
enabled  to  soar  again  into  the  realm  of  the  Infinite,  and 

'  In  a  similar  strain  Cicero  remarks:  "Est  animorum  ingeniorumque 
naturale  quoddam  quasi  pabulum  consideratio  contemplatioque  naturae : 
erigimur ;  elatiores  fieri  videmur ;  humana  despicimus ;  cogitantesque 
supera  atque  ccelestia,  haec  nostra,  ut  exigua  et  minima,  contemnimus." 
— AcademiccB  QwestmieSf  II.,  41. 


6  RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION. 

behold  unlimited  perfection,  and  thereby  regain  the  dignity 
he  lost  by  apostasy.  For  it  is  a  moral  and  spiritual  differ- 
ence that  marks  off  the  hierarchies  of  heaven  from  the 
principalities  of  hell.  Rational  beings  rise  in  grade  and 
glorious  dignity  by  virtue  of  their  character.  But  this 
character  is  intimately  connected  with  the  clear,  unclouded 
contemplation  of  God.  It  is  the  beatific  vision  that  ren- 
ders the  archangels  so  lofty.  And  it  is  only  thi'ough  a 
spiritual  beholding  of  God  that  man  can  reascend  to  the 
point  but  little  lower  than  the  angels,  and  be  crowned 
again  with  glory  and  honor. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  meditation  upon  God  is  a  sancti- 
fying act,  because  God  is  holy  and  perfect  in  his  nature 
and  attributes.  The  meditation  of  which  the  Psalmist 
speaks  in  the  text  is  not  that  of  the  schoolman,  or  the 
poet,  but  of  the  devout,  saintly,  and  adoring  mind.  That 
meditation  upon  God  which  is  "  sweeter  than  honey  and 
the  honey-comb"  is  not  speculative,  but  practical.  That 
which  is  speculative  and  scholastic  springs  from  curiosity. 
That  which  is  practical  flows  from  love.  This  is  the  key 
to  this  distinction,  so  frequently  employed  in  reference  to 
the  operations  of  the  human  mind.  All  merely  speculative 
thinking  is  inquisitive,  acute,  and  wholly  destitute  of  affec- 
tion for  the  object.  But  all  practical  thinking  is  affection- 
ate, sympathetic,  and  in  harmony  with  the  object.  When 
I  meditate  upon  God  because  I  love  him,  my  reflection  is 
practical.  When  I  think  upon  God  because  I  desire  to  ex- 
plore him,  my  thinking  is  speculative.  None,  therefore, 
but  the  devout  and  affectionate  mind  truly  meditates  upon 
God ;  and  all  thought  upon  that  Being  which  is  put  forth 
merely  to  gratify  the  curiosity  and  pride  of  the  human 
understanding  forms  no  part  of  the  Christian  habit  and 
practice  which  we  are  recommending.  Man  in  every  age 
has  endeavored  "  by  searching  to  find  out  God."     He  has 


RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION.  7 

striven  almost  convulsively  to  fathom  the  abyss  of  the 
Deity,  and  discover  the  deep  things  of  the  Creator.  But 
because  it  was  from  the  love  of  knovrledge  rather  than 
from  the  love  of  God,  his  efforts  have  been  both  unprofit- 
able and  futile.  He  has  not  sounded  the  abyss,  neither 
has  his  heart  grown  humble,  and  gentle,  and  tender,  and 
pure.  His  intellect  has  been  baffled,  and,  what  is  yet 
worse,  his  nature  has  not  been  renovated.  Nay,  more, 
a  weariness  and  a  curse  has  come  into  his  spirit,  because  he 
has  put  the  comprehension  of  an  object  in  the  place  of  the 
object  itself ;  because,  in  his  long  struggle  to  understand 
God,  he  has  not  had  the  first  thought  of  loving  and  serving 
him. 

There  is,  indeed,  for  the  created  mind,  no  true  knowl- 
edge of  the  Creator  but  a  practical  and  sanctifying  knowl- 
edge. God  alone  knows  the  speculative  secrets  of  his  own 
being.  The  moral  and  holy  perfections  of  the  Godhead 
are  enough,  and  more  than  enough,  for  man  to  meditate 
upon.  "  The  secret  things  belong  unto  the  Lord  our  God," 
said  Moses  to  the  children  of  Israel,  "  but  those  things 
which  are  revealed  belong  unto  us,  and  to  our  children 
forever,  that  we  may  do  all  the  words  of  his  law." 

True  meditation,  thus  proceeding  from  filial  love  and 
sympathy,  brings  the  soul  into  intercourse  and  communion 
with  its  object.  Devout  and  holy  reflection  upon  God  in- 
troduces man  into  the  divine  presence,  in  a  true  and  solid 
sense  of  these  words.  Such  a  soul  shall  know  God  as  the 
natural  man  does  not,  and  cannot.  "  Judas  saith  unto  him, 
not  Iscariot,  Lord,  how  is  it  that  thou  wilt  manifest  thyself 
unto  us,  and  not  unto  the  world?  Jesus  answered,  and 
said  unto  him,  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words : 
and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto 
him  and  make  our  ahode  with  him."  In  the  hour  of 
spiritual  and  affectionate  musing  upon  the  character  and 


8  EELIGIOUS  MEDITATION. 

attributes  of  God — and  especially  upon  their  manifestation 
in  the  Person  and  Work  of  Christ — there  is  a  positive  im- 
pression upon  the  heart,  directly  from  God.  In  what  other 
mode  can  we  get  near  to  the  Invisible  One,  here  upon 
earth,  than  by  some  mental  act  or  process  ?  In  what  other 
way  than  by  prayer  and  meditation  can  we  approach  God  ? 
We  cannot  see  him  with  the  outward  eye.  We  cannot 
touch  him  with  the  hand.  We  cannot  draw  nigh  to  him 
with  a  body  of  flesh  and  blood.  In  no  way,  here  below, 
can  we  have  intercourse  with  God,  except  "  in  spirit."  He 
is  a  pure  Spirit,  and  that  part  of  us  which  has  to  do  with 
him  is  the  spirit  within  us.  And  in  this  mode  of  exist- 
ence, the  only  ordinary  medium  of  communication  between 
the  divine  and  the  human  spirit  is  thought  and  prayer. 
God,  with  all  the  immensity  of  his  being,  and  all  the  in- 
finitude of  his  perfections,  is  virtually  non-existent  for  that 
man  who  does  not  meditate  and  who  never  prays.  For  so 
long  as  there  is  no  medium  of  intercourse  there  is  no  inter- 
course. The  power  of  thought  and  of  spiritual  supplication 
is  all  that  God  has  given  us  in  this  life  whereby  we  may  ap- 
proach him,  and  be  impressed  by  his  being  and  attributes. 
Eye  hath  not  seen  him ;  the  ear  cannot  hear  him.  Nothing 
but  the  invisible  can  behold  the  invisible.  Here  upon 
earth,  man  must  meet  God  in  the  depths  of  his  soul,  in  the 
privacy  of  his  closet,  or  not  at  all. 

The  Christian  life  is  so  imperfect  here  below,  that  it  is 
unsafe  to  set  it  up  as  a  measure  of  what  is  possible  under 
the  covenant  of  grace.  The  possibilities  and  capacities 
of  the  Christian  religion  are  by  no  means  to  be  estimated 
by  the  stinted  draughts  made  upon  them  by  our  unfaith- 
fulness and  unbelief.  Were  we  as  meditative  and  prayer- 
ful as  was  Enoch,  the  seventh  from  Adam,  we,  like  him, 
should  "walk  with  God."  This  was  the  secret  of  the 
wonderful  spirituality  and  unearthliness  that  led  to  his 


RELIGIOUS  MEDITATION.  9 

translation.  Is  there  upon  earth  to-day  any  communion 
between  man  and  God  superior  to  that  between  the  patri- 
archal mind  and  the  Eternal  ?  Men  tell  us  that  the  ancient 
church  was  ignorant,  and  that  it  cannot  be  expected  that 
Seth  and  Enoch  and  David  should  be  possessed  of  the  vast 
intelligence  of  the  nineteenth  century.  But  show  me  the 
man  among  the  millions  of  our  restless  and  self -conceited 
civilization  who  walks  with  God  as  Enoch  did,  and  who 
meditates  upon  that  glorious  Being  all  the  day  and  in  the 
night  watches  as  David  did — show  me  a  man  of  such 
mental  processes  as  these,  and  I  will  show  you  one  whose 
shoe  latchets,  even  in  intellectual  respects,  the  wisest  of 
our  savans  is  not  worthy  to  stoop  down  and  unloose.  N^o 
scientific  knowledge  equals,  either  in  loftiness  or  in  depth, 
the  immortal  vision  of  the  saint  and  seraphim.  And  were 
we  accustomed  to  such  heavenly  contemplation  and  musing, 
the  "  fire  would  burn  "  in  our  hearts  as  it  did  in  that  of  the 
Psalmist,  and  our  souls  would  "pant"  after  God.  God 
would  be  real  to  our  feelings,  instead  of  being  a  mere  ab- 
straction for  our  understandings.  We  should  be  conscious 
of  his  presence  with  a  distinctness  equal  to  that  with  which 
we  feel  the  morning  wind,  and  should  see  his  glory  as 
clearly  as  we  ever  saw  the  sun  at  noonday.  With  as  much 
certainty  as  we  know  the  sky  to  be  overhead,  and  under- 
neath the  solid  ground,  should  we  be  certain  that  "  God  is, 
and  is  the  rewarder  of  them  that' diligently  seek  him." 
There  would  be  contact.  "  I  want,"  said  Kiebuhr,  wearied 
with  seeking  and  not  finding,  "  I  want  a  God  who  is  heart 
to  my  heart,  spirit  to  my  spirit,  life  to  my  life."  Such  is 
God  to  every  soul  that  loves  him,  and  meditates  because  it 
loves. 

True  meditation,  then,  being  practical,  and  thereby  bring- 
ing the  subject  of  it  into  communion  with  the  object  of 
it,  is  of  necessity  sanctifying.     For  the  object  is  Infinite 


10  RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION. 

Holiness  and  Purity.  It  is  he  in  whom  is  centred  and 
gathered  and  crowded  all  possible  perfections.  And  can 
our  minds  muse  upon  such  a  Being  and  not  become  purer 
and  better  ?  Can  we  actually  and  affectionately  commune 
with  the  most  perfect  and  high  God  in  the  heavens  and 
not  become  sanctified  ?  The  spirit  of  a  man  takes  its 
character  from  the  themes  of  its  meditation.  He  who 
thinks  much  upon  wealth  becomes  avaricious ;  he  whose 
thoughts  are  upon  earthly  glory  becomes  ambitious ;  and 
he  whose  thoughts  are  upon  God  becomes  godlike. 

Ill,  In  the  third  place,  meditation  upon  God  is  a  hlessed 
act  of  the  mind,  because  God  himself  is  an  infinitely  blessed 
being,  and  communicates  of  his  fulness  of  joy  to  all  who 
contemplate  it.  Mere  thinking,  in  and  of  itself,  is  not 
sufficient  to  secure  happiness.  Everything  depends  upon 
the  quality  of  the  thought,  and  this  again  upon  the 
nature  of  the  object  upon  which  it  is  expended.  There 
are  various  kinds  and  degrees  of  mental  enjoyment,  each 
produced  by  a  particular  species  of  mental  reflection  ;  but 
there  is  no  thinking  that  gives  rest  and  satisfaction  and 
joy  to  the  soul,  but  thinking  upon  the  glorious  and  blessed 
God.  All  other  thought  ultimately  baffles  and  tires  us. 
Heaven  comes  into  the  human  mind  not  through  poetry, 
or  philosophy,  or  science,  or  art — not  through  any  secular 
knowledge — but  through  religion.  "When  a  man  thinks  of 
his  wealth,  his  houses,  his  friends,  or  his  country,  though 
he  derives  a  sort  of  pleasure  from  so  doing,  yet  it  is  not  of 
such  a  grave  and  solid  species  as  to  justify  its  being  de- 
nominated "  bliss."  No  thought  that  is  expended  upon  the 
creature,  or  upon  any  of  the  creaturely  relations,  can 
possibly  produce  that  "  sober  certainty  of  waking  bliss " 
which  constitutes  heaven.  If  it  can,  why  is  not  man  a 
blessed  spirit  here  on  earth  ?  If  it  can,  why  is  it  that  man 
in  all  his  movements  and  strivings  never  reaches  a  final 


RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION.  11 

centre,  at  which  he  is  willing  to  say  to  his  soul :  "  This  is 
enough  ;  this  is  all ;  here  stand  and  remain  forever  ? " 
Man  is  constantly  thinking  upon  the  things  of  earth,  and 
if  they  have  the  power  to  awaken  calm  and  contented 
thought,  and  to  induce  a  permanent  and  perfect  joy,  why 
is  he  so  restless  and  unhappy  ?  And  why  does  he  become 
the  more  wearied  and  soured,  the  more  intensely  he  thinks 
and  toils  ? 

But  there  is  higher  and  nobler  thought  than  that  of 
trade  and  politics.  Man  can  meditate  upon  purely  in- 
tellectual themes.  He  can  expend  intense  reflection  upon 
the  mysteries  and  problems  of  his  own  mind,  and  of  the 
Eternal  Mind.  He  can  put  forth  an  earnest  and  graceful 
effort  of  his  powers  within  the  province  of  beautiful  letters 
and  fine  art.  But  does  even  such  an  intellectual,  and,  so 
far  as  it  goes,  such  an  elevating  meditation  as  this  produce 
and  preserve  genuine  tranquillity  and  enjoyment  ?  Are 
poet  and  philosopher  synonymous  with  saint  and  angel  ? 
Is  the  learned  man  necessarily  a  happy  one  ?  Look 
through  the  history  of  literary  men,  and  see  their  anxious 
but  baffled  research,  their  eager  but  fruitless  inquiry,  their 
acute  but  empty  speculation,  their  intense  but  vain  study, 
and  you  will  know  that  the  wise  man  spake  true  when  he 
said,  "He  that  increaseth  knowledge  increaseth  sorrow." 
Hear  the  sigh  of  the  meditative  Wordsworth : 

"Me  this  unchartered  freedom  tires  ; 
I  feel  the  weight  of  chance  desires  ; 
My  hopes  no  more  must  change  their  name, 
I  long  for  a  repose  that  ever  is  the  same." 

No,  all  thought  which  does  not  ultimately  come  home 
to  God  in  practical,  filial,  and  sympathetic  communion,  is 
incapable  of  rendering  the  soul  blest.  The  intellect  may 
find  a  kind  of  pleasure  in  satisfying  its  inquisitive  and 


12  RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION. 

proud  desire  "  to  be  as  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil,"  but 
the  heart  experiences  no  peace  or  rest,  until  by  a  devout 
and  religious  meditation  it  enters  into  the  fulness  of  God 
and  shares  in  his  eternal  joy. 

And  here  again,  as  in  the  former  instance,  our  personal 
experience  is  so  limited  and  meagre  that  the  language  of 
Scripture,  and  of  some  saints  on  earth,  seems  exaggerated 
and  rhetorical.  Says  the  sober  and  sincere  apostle  Paul 
— a  man  too  much  in  earnest,  and  too  well  acquainted 
with  the  subject,  to  overdraw  and  overpaint — "  Eye  hath 
not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the 
heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for 
them  that  love  him."  There  is  a  strange  unearthly  joy, 
when  a  pure  and  spiritual  mind  is  granted  a  clear  view  of 
the  divine  perfections.  It  rejoices  with  a  joy  imspeakable 
and  full  of  glorying.  All  finite  beauty,  all  created  glory, 
is  but  a  shadow  in  comparison.  The  holy  mind  rapt  in 
contemplation  says  with  Augustine  :  "  When  I  love  God, 
I  do  not  love  the  beauty  of  material  bodies,  nor  the  fair 
harmony  of  time,  nor  the  brightness  of  the  light  so  glad- 
some to  our  eyes,  nor  sweet  melodies  of  varied  songs,  nor 
the  fragrant  smell  of  flowers  and  perfumes  and  spices ; 
not  manna  nor  honey.  None  of  these  do  I  love,  when  I 
love  my  God.  And  yet  I  love  a  kind  of  melody,  a  kind  of 
fragrance,  and  a  kind  of  food,  when  I  love  my  God — the, 
light,  the  melody,  the  fragrance,  and  the  food  of  the  inner 
man :  when  there  shineth  into  my  soul  what  space  cannot 
contain,  and  there  soundeth  what  time  beareth  not  away, 
and  there  smelleth  what  breathing  disperseth  not,  and  there 
tasteth  what  eating  diminisheth  not.  This  is  it  which  I 
love,  when  I  love  my  God." ' 

We  find  it  diflScult,  with  our  sluggish  and  earthly  tem- 

'  Confessions,  X.,  6. 


RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION.  13 

per,  to  believe  all  this,  and  to  sympathize  with  it.  Yet  it 
is  simple  naked  truth  and  fact.  There  is  a  heaven, 
whether  we  reach  it  or  not.  There  is  a  beatific  vision  of 
God,  whether  it  ever  dilate  and  enrapture  our  eyes  or  not. 
God  is  infinite  blessedness  and  glory,  and  no  good  being 
can  behold  him  without  partaking  of  it.  As  he  gazes,  he 
is  changed  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory.  The 
more  clear  and  full  his  vision,  the  more  overwhelming  and 
boundless  is  the  influx  of  heaven  into  him.  We  may  know 
something  of  this  here  on  earth.  The  more  we  meditate 
upon  God  and  divine  things,  the  happier  shall  we  become 
in  our  own  minds.  There  are  at  this  moment,  upon  this 
cursed  and  thistle-bearing  earth,  some  meek  and  gentle 
spirits  whose  life  of  prayer  and  holy  communion  streaks 
the  heavens  with  bars  of  amber,  and  apparels  everything 
in  heavenly  light.  And  the  more  this  divine  pleasure 
enters  the  soul,  the  more  will  it  hunger  and  thirst  after  it. 
For  this  is  the  summum,  honum  /  this  is  the  absolute  de- 
light. This  never  satiates.  This  never  wearies.  This 
joy  in  the  vision  of  God  has  the  power  to  freshen  and  in- 
vigorate while  it  runs  through  the  fibres  of  the  heart ;  and 
therefore,  even  amidst  the  most  ecstatic  and  satisfying 
visions  of  heaven,  the  blessed  still  cry :  "  My  soul  pants 
after  thee,  O  God,  as  the  hart  pants  after  the  water- 
brook;  my  heart  and  my  flesh  cries  out  for  the  living 
God." 

Never  will  our  minds  reach  a  state  in  which  they  will 
really  be  at  rest,  and  never  will  they  put  forth  an  activity 
which  they  will  be  willing  to  have  eternal,  until  they  ac- 
quire the  mental  habits  of  the  holy  angels.  In  the  saints' 
everlasting  rest,  there  is  an  unintermittent  contemplation 
and  sight  of  God.  Who  of  us  is  ready  for  it  ?  Who  of  us 
is  certain  that  he  will  not  turn  away,  when  he  finds  that 
this,  and  this  alone,  is  the  heaven  of  which  he  has  heard 


14  EELIGIOUS   MEDITATION. 

SO  much.  Who  of  us  has  such  a  holy  frame  and  such  a 
spiritual  sympathy  with  God,  that  every  deeper  descent 
into  that  abyss  of  holiness  and  purity  will  reveal  new  sights 
of  joy,  and  start  out  new  feelings  of  wonder  and  love? 
Who  of  us  can  be  happy  in  heaven  ?  For  this  open  vision 
of  God,  this  sight  of  him  face  to  face,  this  beatific  contem- 
plation of  his  perfections,  is  the  substance  of  paradise,  the 
jasper  foundation  of  the  city  of  God. 

We  have  thus  seen  that  religious  meditation  upon  God 
and  divine  things  elevates,  sanctifies,  and  blesses.  But 
though  this  Christian  habit  produces  such  great  and  good 
fruits,  there  is  probably  no  duty  that  is  more  neglected. 
We  find  it  easier  to  read  our  Bible,  than  to  ponder  upon  it ; 
easier  to  listen  to  preaching,  than  to  inwardly  digest  it ; 
easier  to  respond  to  the  calls  of  benevolence  and  engage  in 
external  service  in  the  church,  than  to  go  into  our  closets. 
And  is  not  this  the  secret  of  the  faint  and  sickly  life  in  our 
souls  ?  Is  not  this  the  reason  why  we  live  at  a  poor  dying 
rate  ?  Think  you  that  if  we  often  entered  into  the 
presence  of  God  and  obtained  a  realizing  view  of  things 
unseen  and  eternal,  earthly  temptation  would  have  such  a 
strong  power  over  us  as  it  does  ?  Think  you  that  if  we 
received  every  day  a  distinct  and  bold  impression  from  the 
attributes  of  God,  we  should  be  so  distant  from  him  in 
our  hearts  ?  Can  we  not  trace  our  neglect  of  duty,  our 
lukewarm  feelings,  and  our  great  worldliness  of  heart,  to 
our  lack  of  the  vision  of  God  ? 

The  success  of  a  Christian  mainly  depends  upon  a  uni- 
form and  habitual  communion  witli  his  God  and  Re- 
deemer. No  spasmodic  resolutions  into  which  he  may  be 
exasperated  by  the  goadings  of  conscience  can  be  a  sub- 
stitute for  it.  If  holy  communion  and  prayer  are  inter- 
rupted, he  will  surely  fall  into  sin.  In  this  world  of 
continual  temptation  and  of  lethargic  consciences,  we  need 


RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION.  16 

to  be  awakened  and  awed  by  the  serene  splendor  of  God's 
holy  countenance.  But  we  cannot  behold  that  amidst  the 
vapors  and  smoke  of  every-day  life.  We  must  go  into 
our  closets  and  "  shut  the  door,  and  pray  to  our  Father 
who  seeth  in  secret."  Then  shall  we  know  how  power  to 
resist  temptation  comes  from  fellowship  with  God.  Then 
shall  we  know  what  a  sabbath  that  soul  enjoys,  which, 
with  open  eye,  looks  long  and  steadily  at  the  Divine 
perfections.  With  what  a  triumphant  energy,  like  that  of 
the  archangel  trampling  on  the  dragon,  does  Moses  come 
down  from  the  Mount  into  the  life  of  conflict  and  trial. 
With  what  a  vehement  spiritual  force  does  a  holy  mind 
resist  evil,  after  it  has  just  seen  the  contrast  between  evil 
and  God.  Will  the  eagle  that  has  soared  above  the 
earth  in  the  free  air  of  the  open  firmament  of  heaven,  and 
has  gazed  into  the  sun  with  an  undazzled  eye,  endure  to 
sink  and  dwell  in  the  dark  cavern  of  the  owl  and  the  bat  ? 
Then  will  the  spirit  which  has  seen  the  glorious  light  of 
the  divine  countenance  endure  to  descend  and  grovel  in 
the  darkness  and  shame  of  sin. 

It  should,  therefore,  be  a  diligent  and  habitual  practice 
with  us,  to  meditate  upon  God  and  divine  things.  Time 
should  be  carefully  set  apart  and  faithfully  used  for  this 
sole  purpose.  It  is  startling  to  consider  how  much  of  our 
life  passes  without  any  thought  of  God  ;  without  any  dis- 
tinct and  filial  recognition  of  his  presence  and  his  char- 
acter. And  yet  how  much  of  it  might  be  spent  in  sweet 
and  profitable  meditation.  The  avocations  of  our  daily 
life  do  not  require  the  whole  of  our  mental  energy  and  re- 
flection. If  there  were  a  disposition ;  if  the  current  of 
feeling  and  affection  set  in  that  direction;  how  often 
could  the  farmer  commune  with  God  in  the  midst  of  his 
toil,  or  the  merchant  in  the  very  din  and  press  of  his  busi- 
ness. How  often  could  the  artisan  send  his  thoughts  and  his 


16  RELIGIOUS  MEDITATION. 

ejaculations  upward,  and  the  work  of  his  hands  be  none 
the  worse  for  it.  "  What  hinders,"  says  Augustine,'  "  what 
hinders  a  servant  of  God  while  working  with  his  hands, 
from  meditating  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  singing  unto 
the  name  of  the  Lord  most  high  ?  As  for  divine  songs,  he 
can  easily  say  them  even  while  working  with  his  hands, 
and  like  as  rowers  with  a  boat-song,  so  with  godly  melody 
cheer  up  his  very  toil."  But  the  disposition  is  greatly 
lacking.  If  there  were  an  all-absorbing  affection  for  God 
in  our  hearts,  and  it  were  deep  joy  to  see  him,  would  not 
this  "  sweet  meditation  "  of  the  Psalmist  be  the  pleasure 
of  life,  and  all  other  thinking  the  duty — a  duty  per- 
formed from  the  necessity  that  attaches  to  this  imperfect 
mode  of  existence,  rather  than  from  any  keen  relish  for 
it  ?  If  the  vision  of  God  were  glorious  and  ravishing  to 
our  minds,  should  we  not  find  them  often  indulging 
themselves  in  the  sight,  and  would  not  a  return  to  the 
things  of  earth  be  reluctant  ?  Would  not  thought  upon 
God  steal  through  and  suffuse  all  our  other  thinking,  as 
sunset  does  the  evening  sky,  giving  a  pure  and  saintly  hue 
to  all  our  feelings,  and  pervading  our  entire  experience  ? 
So  it  works  in  other  provinces.  The  poet  Burns  was  so 
deeply  absorbed  in  the  visions,  aspirations,  and  emotions 
of  poetry,  that  the  avocations  of  the  farmer  engrossed 
but  little  of  his  mind,  and  it  has  been  said  of  him, 
that  "  though  his  hand  was  on  the  plough  his  heart 
was  with  the  muse."  Were  the  Christian  as  much  ab- 
sorbed in  the  visions,  aspirations,  and  emotions  of  re- 
ligion, it  would  be  said  of  him,  too  :  "  His  hand  is  on 
the  plough,  but  his  heart  is  with  his  God  ;  his  head  is  in 
his  worldly  business,  but  his  heart  is  with  his  God." 
Finally,  let  us  be  urged  up  to  the  practice  of  this  duty 

'  De  Opere  Monacliorum,  XVIL 


RELIGIOUS   MEDITATION.  17 

by  a  consideration  which  has  most  force,  it  is  true,  for  un- 
renewed men  who  know  nothing  of  the  Christian  expe- 
rience, but  which  still  has  much  strength  for  us  if  we 
consider  our  remaining  sin  and  the  slender  amount  of  our 
intercourse  with  God.  We  still  find  it  too  difficult  to 
delight  in  God.  It  is  still  not  so  easy  and  pleasant  as  it 
ought  to  be  to  walk  with  God.  Notwithstanding  our 
vocation  and  our  expectation,  it  is  still  too  difficult  for  us 
to  be  happy  in  heaven.  It  is  in  this  reference  that  the 
subject  we  have  been  considering  speaks  with  great 
emphasis.  Let  us  remember  that  a  foundation  for  heaven 
in  our  own  minds  is  requisite  in  order  to  the  enjoyment 
of  the  heaven  that  is  on  high.'  That  rational  being  who 
does  not  practise  the  meditations  and  enjoy  the  experiences 
of  heaven,  will  not  be  at  home  there,  and,  therefore,  will 
not  go  there.  Every  being  goes  to  "  his  own  place."  Is 
it  supposable  that  a  soul  that  never  here  on  earth  con- 
templated the  Divine  character  with  pleasure,  will  see 
that  character  in  eternity,  in  peace,  and  joy  ?  Is  it  sup- 
posable that  a  human  spirit  tilled  with  self-seeking  and 
worldliness,  and  wholly  destitute  of  devout  and  adoring 
meditations,  will  be  taken  among  seraphim  and  cherubim 
when  taken  out  of  time  ?  Is  that  world  of  holy  con- 
templation the  proper  place  for  a  carnal  mind  filled  through 
and  through  with  only  earthly  and  selfish  thoughts  ?  Can 
the  sensual  Dives  be  happy  in  the  bosom  of  Abraham  ? 
God  is  not  mocked,  neither  can  a  man  cheat  and  impose 
upon  his  own  soul  when  in  eternity.  Every  one  will  then 
be  brought  to  his  individuality.    He  will  know  then,  if  not 

'  "  A  human  being, "  says  Channing,  ' '  who  has  lived  without  God,  and 
without  self-improvement,  can  no  more  enjoy  heaven  than  a  moulder- 
ing body  lifted  from  the  tomb  and  placed  amidst  beautiful  prospects, 
can  enjoy  the  light  through  its  decayed  eyes,  or  feel  the  balmy  air 
which  blows  away  its  dust." — Sermon  on  Immortality. 


18  EELIGIOUS  MEDITATION. 

before,  what  he  does  really  love  and  what  he  does  really 
loathe.  And  if  in  that  other  world  there  be  only  a  pre-" 
tended  and  hollow  affection  for  God,  with  what  a  sigli 
and  long-drawn  moan  will  the  wretched  being  fling  down 
the  harp  with  which  he  vainly  tries  to  sing  the  heavenly 
song.  For  whatsoever  a  man  thinks  of  with  most  relish 
here  in  time,  he  shall  think  of  with  most  relish  in  eternity. 
He  who  loves  to  think  of  wealth,  and  fame,  and  sensual 
pleasure,  and  loathes  to  think  of  God,  and  Christ,  and 
heavenly  objects,  shall  think  of  wealth,  and  fame,  and 
sensual  pleasure  in  eternity,  where  all  such  thinking  is 
"  the  worm  that  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  that  is  not 
quenched,"  But  he  who,  in  any  degree,  loves  to  think  of 
God  and  Christ,  and  abhors  to  think  of  sin  in  all  its  forms, 
shall  think  of  God  and  Christ  in  eternity — where  all  such 
thought  is  music,  and  peace,  and  rest. 

The  destination  of  every  man  in  another  world  may  be 
inferred  and  known  from  the  general  tenor  of  his  thoughts 
in  this.  He  who  does  not  love  to  think  upon  a  particular 
class  of  subjects  here  will  not  love  to  think  upon  them 
there.  The  mere  passage  from  time  to  eternity  can  no 
more  alter  a  man's  likes  or  dislilies  in  this  respect  than  the 
passage  of  the  Atlantic  can  alter  them.  And  that  rational 
spirit,  be  it  human,  angelic,  or  arch-angelic,  which  iu 
eternity  cannot  take  positive  delight  in  contemplating  God, 
but  recoils  from  all  such  contemplation,  is  miserable  and 
lost,  though  it  tread  the  golden  streets  and  hear  the  rip- 
pling murmurs  of  the  river  of  the  water  of  life.  But  if 
our  meditation  upon  God  is  sweet  here,  it  will  be  sweeter 
in  eternity.  And  then  our  blessedness  will  be  certain  and 
secure ;  for  no  spirit,  human,  angelic,  or  arch-angelic,  can 
by  any  possibility  be  made  unblest  in  any  part  of  God's 
vast  dominions,  if  it  really  finds  joy  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  ever-present  God. 


SEEMON  n. 

CHRISTIAN  MODERATION. 


Pkoverbs   xvi.    32. —  "He  that  is  slow   to   anger    is   better   than 
the  mighty;  and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a  city." 


The  book  of  Proverbs  is  the  best  of  all  manuals  for  the 
formation  of  a  well-balanced  mind.  The  object  of  Solo- 
mon in  composing  it  seems  to  have  been  to  furnish  to  the 
church  a  summary  of  rules  and  maxims  by  which  the 
Christian  character,  having  been  originated  by  regeneration, 
should  then  be  educated  and  made  symmetrical.  We  do 
not,  therefore,  go  to  this  portion  of  Scripture  so  much  for 
full  and  definite  statements  of  the  distinguishing  doctrines 
of  revealed  religion,  as  for  those  wise  and  prudential 
canons  whereby  we  may  reform  extravagance,  prune 
down  luxuriance,  and  combine  the  whole  variety  of  traits 
and  qualities  into  a  harmonious  and  beautiful  unity.  "We 
do  not  find  in  this  part  of  the  Bible  careful  and  minute 
specifications  of  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity,  of  the  apos- 
tasy of  mankind,  of  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God, 
of  vicarious  atonement,  regeneration  and  justification. 
They  are  hinted  at,  it  is  true — as  when  the  Eternal  Wisdom 
is  spoken  of  as  being  with  the  Lord  "  in  the  beginning  of  his 
way,  before  his  works  of  old  ;  as  one  brouglit  up  with  him, 
daily  his  delight,  and  rejoicing  always  before  him."  (Prov. 
viii.  22,  30.)  Here  we  have  the  same  doctrine,  germin- 
ally,  with  that  of  the  Apostle  John,  when  he  affirms  that 


20  CHRISTIAN  MODERATION. 

the  Eternal  Word,  or  Keason,  "  in  the  beginning  was  with 
God,  and  was  God."  And  what  are  such  assertions,  as 
that  "  there  is  not  a  just  man  upon  earth  that  doeth  good 
and  sinneth  not "  (Eccl.  vii.  20),  and  such  questions  as, 
"  Who  can  saj,  I  have  made  my  heart  clean,  1  am  pure 
from  my  sin "  ?  (Prov.  xx.  9),  but  an  indirect  statement 
of  the  doctrine  of  human  depravity  ?  Still  it  is  not  the 
main  purpose  of  Solomon,  in  those  two  books  of  the 
inspired  canon  which  go  under  the  name  of  Proverbs  and 
Ecclesiastes,  to  particularly  enunciate  the  evangelical  sys- 
tem ;  but  rather  to  set  forth  those  principles  of  ethics,  and 
religious  prudence,  which  must  always  follow  in  the  train 
of  evangelical  religion.  It  is  reserved  for  other  portions  of 
the  Bible — for  the  Gospels  and  the  Epistles — to  make  the 
-fundamental  statements,  and  lay  the  foundations  of  Chris- 
tian character  ;  while  it  remains  for  the  wise  Preacher  to 
follow  up  with  those  teachings  which  serve  to  develop  and 
beautify  it.  The  book  of  revelation  is,  in  this  way,  like 
the  book  of  nature.  The  scientific  naturalist  does  not 
claim  that  everything  in  nature  is  upon  a  dead  level  in  re- 
spect to  intrinsic  worth  and  importance — that  a  bit  of 
charcoal  is  just  as  valuable  as  a  bit  of  diamond ;  that  a  lily 
is  just  as  high  up  the  scale  of  creation  as  a  man.  But  he 
does  claim  that  one  is  as  much  the  work  of  creative  power 
as  the  other,  and  in  its  own  sphere  and  place  is  as  indis- 
pensable to  the  great  sum  total  of  creation  as  is  the  other. 
And  so,  too,  the  scientific  theologian  does  not  claim  that 
everything  in  the  Bible  is  upon  a  dead  level  in  respect  to 
intrinsic  value — that  the  book  of  Esther  is  as  important 
for  purposes  of  regeneration  and  conversion  as  is  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans — but  he  does  claim  that  both  alike  are  the 
product  of  Divine  inspiration ;  that  both  alike  are  a  por- 
tion of  that  Word  of  God,  that  sum-total  of  revealed  truth 
upon  which,  as  a  whole,  the  kingdom  of  God  in  the  earth 


CHRISTIAlSr  MODERATION.  21 

is  to  be  founded  and  built  up.  Had  the  book  of  Esther 
been  lost  out  of  the  canon,  it  would  not  have  been  so  great 
a  detriment  to  the  church  as  the  loss  of  the  Gospel  of 
John,  or  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans.  If  the  missionary 
were  allowed  to  carry  only  a  single  fragment  of  Scripture 
into  a  heathen  population,  and  were  compelled  to  make 
his  choice  between  the  book  of  Proverbs  or  the  Gospel  of 
St.  Matthew,  he  would  undoubtedly  select  the  latter. 
Isot,  however,  because  one  is  less  trustworthy  than  the 
other;  but  because  one  contains  more  of  the  doctrinal 
material  which  the  missionary  employs  in  laying  the 
foundation  of  the  church  ;  because  it  gives  more  informa- 
tion concerning  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  the  way  of  sal- 
vation than  does  the  other.  The  book  of  Proverbs,  as  we 
have  remarked,  was  composed  not  so  much  for  the  pur- 
pose of  originating  a  holy  character,  as  of  shaping  and 
polishing  it ;  and  for  this  purpose  it  is  indispensable,  and 
for  this  purpose  it  was  inspired.  And  hence  in  mission- 
ary fields,  as  well  as  in  the  church  at  large,  the  wise  max- 
ims and  well-grounded  ethics  of  Solomon  will  always 
follow  up  the  evangelical  truths  and  doctrines  of  the 
Apostle  John,  and  the  Apostle  Paul. 

"  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better  than  the  mighty ; 
and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a  city." 
In  this  concise  sententious  "  proverb,"  the  wise  man  des- 
cribes and  recommends  a  certain  kind  of  temper  which 
should  be  possessed  and  cherished  by  the  people  of  God. 
We  purpose,  in  the  first  place,  briefly  to  describe  this  tem- 
per ;  in  the  second  place,  to  mention  some  of  the  obstacles 
that  oppose  its  formation  ;  and  in  the  third  place,  to  point 
out  the  true  source  and  root  of  it. 

The  temper  that  is  recommended  in  the  text,  to  say  it 
in  a  word,  is  Christian  moderation.  St.  Paul  urges 
the  same  thing  with  Solomon,  when  he  writes  to  the 


22  CHRISTIAN   MODERATION. 

Pliilippians :  "Let  your  moderation  be  known  unto  all 
men ; "  when  he  writes  to  the  Thessalonians :  "  Let  us 
watch  and  be  sober ; "  and  when  he  writes  to  Titus,  that 
"the  grace  of  God  which  bringeth  salvation  hath  appeared 
to  all  men,  teaching  us  that  denying  ungodliness  and 
worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly 
in  this  present  world." 

I.  Li  defining,  in  the  first  place,  the  nature  of  this  tem- 
per and  disposition,  it  is  evident  that  a  man  who  is  "  slow 
to  anger,"  and  who  "ruleth  his  spirit,"  is  characterized  by 
sobriety  and  equanimity.  He  is  never  driven  to  extremes, 
in  any  direction.  For  anger  is  one  of  the  most  vehement 
of  emotions,  and  he  who  can  control  it  can  control  any- 
thing, can  "  take  a  city."  Hence  this  particular  passion 
is  selected  as  the  specimen.  He  who  reins  in  his  own 
impulsive  wrath  with  such  a  strong  and  firm  rein  that  it 
never  gets  the  mastery  over  him,  will  find  it  no  difficult 
task  to  rule  and  regulate  the  whole  brood  of  passions 
which  have  their  nest  in  corrupt  human  nature.  Such  a 
man  is  even-tempered,  in  the  deepest  sense.  Such  a  man 
stands  in  just  and  proper  relations  to  both  worlds.  He  lives 
with  contentment  here  upon  earth,  and  at  the  same  time 
lays  up  treasure  in  heaven.  He  does  not  drown  himself 
in  worldly  lusts,  like  a  voluptuary,  and  neither  does  he  kill 
out  all  human  sympathies,  like  an  ascetic.  He  uses  this 
world  as  not  abusing  it  in  either  direction.  He  does  not 
abuse  the  good  things  of  this  life,  by  an  immoderate  in- 
dulgence in  them,  or  an  immoderate  desire  and  toil  after 
them ;  and  he  does  not  abuse  the  legitimate  enjoyments 
of  this  existence,  by  a  fanatical  contempt  and  rejection  of 
them  altogether.  He  is  not  so  absorbed  in  the  things  of 
time  and  sense,  as  to  lose  sight  of  eternal  realities ;  neither 
is  he  so  monkishly  indifferent  to  the  interests  and  objects 
of  this  life,  as  to  be  either  a  drone  or  a  malcontent.     He 


CHRISTIAN   MODERATION.  23 

responds  to  all  the  reasonable  and  proper  demands  of 
domestic,  social,  and  civil  existence,  while  yet  he  never 
becomes  so  extreme  in  his  attachment,  and  so  enslaved  to 
them,  that  it  costs  him  murmurings  and  bitter  pangs  to  be 
called  away  from  these  circles  into  the  immediate  presence 
of  God. 

This  is  indeed  a  wonderful  temper  to  be  attained  by  so 
ill-governed,  so  passionate,  impulsive,  and  unbalanced  a 
creature  as  man.  It  is  no  wonder  that  such  a  well-poised 
and  symmetrical  character  as  this  floated  as  an  unattain- 
able ideal  before  the  minds  of  the  better  pagan  philoso- 
phers. This  is  the  famous  "temperance"  which  meets 
the  scholar  so  continually  in  the  writings  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle — that  golden  mean  between  the  extremes  of 
passion  and  apathy  which  the  philosopher  strives  to  reach. 
"  Quietly  reflecting  " — says  Plato — "  on  the  madness  and 
ungovernable  passions  of  the  multitude,  and  attending  to 
his  own  affairs,  like  a  man  sheltered  under  a  wall  in  a  storm 
of  dust  and  foam  borne  along  on  the  wind,  by  which  he 
sees  all  about  him  overwhelmed  in  disorder,  such  an  one  is 
content  to  pass  his  life  free  from  violence  and  passion,  and 
to  effect  his  exit  hence  with  good  hopes,  cheerful  and 
serene." '  This  is  his  description  of  the  moderation,  the 
equanimity,  the  temperance  of  the  philosophic  mind.  But 
in  other  places  this  thoughtful  pagan  confesses  that  this 
golden  mean  is  never  reached  here  upon  earth,  either  by 
the  philosopher  or  the  common  man.  He  compares  the 
soul  to  a  pair  of  horses — one  of  them  erect,  finely  formed, 
with  high  neck,  aquiline  nose,  white-colored,  black-eyed, 
a  lover  of  honor  and  temperance  and  true  glory,  driven 
without  the  whip,  by  word  of  command  and  voice  only  ; 
the  other  crooked,  thick  set,  clumsily  put  together,  with 

'  Republic,  VI.,  495. 


24  CHRISTIAN  MODERATION. 

strong  neck,  short  throat,  flat  face,  black  color,  gray-eyed, 
addicted  to  insolence  and  swaggering,  scarcely  obedient  to 
whip  and  spur  together.'  These  two  opposing  creatures, 
according  to  him,  represent  the  present  condition  of  the 
human  soul.  There  are  aspirations  that  would  lead  it  up- 
ward, but  there  are  appetites  that  drag  it  downward.  The 
white  horse  would  pursue  the  path  of  honor  and  excellence ; 
but  the  black  horse  draws  away  from  the  path,  and  plunges 
madly  downward.  And  the  black  horse  is  the  strongest. 
The  appetite  is  too  mighty  for  the  resolution.  There  is 
an  infinite  aspiration,  and  an  infinitesimal  performance. 
Such  is  the  mournful  confession  of  the  greatest  thinker 
outside  of  the  pale  of  revelation  ;  and  if  a  Plato  could  dis- 
cover and  teach  to  future  generations  the  corruption  and 
helplessness  of  human  nature,  what  shall  we  say  of  those 
teachers  under  the  full  light  of  revelation,  who  would 
have  us  believe  that  there  is  no  corruption  in  man  but 
such  as  can  be  eradicated  by  man  himself,  and  who  would 
dispense  with  the  evangelical  means  and  methods  of  heal- 
ing and  salvation. 

II.  And  this  brings  us  to  consider,  in  the  second  place, 
some  of  the  obstacles  that  oppose  the  formation  of  such 
a  Christian  sobriety  and  moderation.  They  spring  from 
two  general  sources — the  sense,  and  the  mind.  They  are 
partly  physical,  and  partly  intellectual  obstacles. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  this  Christian  sobriety  and  modera- 
tion is  opposed  by  the  appetites  and  passions  of  the  hody.  St. 
Paul,  speaking  of  man  before  regeneration,  says,  "  When 
we  were  in  the  flesh,  the  motions  [passions]  of  sins  which 
were  by  the  law  did  work  in  our  members,  to  bring  forth 
fruit  unto  death."  It  is  one  of  the  effects  of  apostasy,  that 
human  nature  is  corrupted  upon  the  physical  side  of  it,  as 

»  Phffidrus,  XXV.,  3. 


CHRISTIAN  MODERATION".  25 

well  as  upon  the  mental  and  moral  side.  "  Original  sin," 
as  the  Westminster  creed  aflSrms,  "  is  the  corruption  of  the 
tohole  nature."  The  bodily  appetites  are  verj  different 
now  from  what  they  would  have  been,  had  man  remained 
in  his  original  and  holy  condition.  When  Adam  came  from 
the  hand  of  the  Creator,  his  physical  nature  was  pure  and 
perfect.  All  of  his  appetites  and  sensibilities  were  in  just 
proportion,  and  were  exactly  balanced  and  harmonized. 
The  original  and  holy  Adam  was  no  glutton,  and  no  voluptu- 
ary. Every  appetite  of  the  body  was  even-tempered,  never 
reaching  beyond  the  just  limits,  and  going  as  far,  and  only 
as  far,  as  the  healthy  and  happy  condition  of  the  organism 
required.  Probably  the  brute  creation  approaches  nearer 
to  the  original  Adam,  in  this  particular  of  a  sound 
physical  organization,  than  do  his  degenerate  posterity. 
How  comparatively  moderate  all  the  physical  appetites 
are,  in  the  low  sphere  of  the  dumb  animals.'  The  ox  and 
the  horse,  for  example,  having  satisfied  the  healthy  and 
natural  cravings  of  hunger,  demand  nothing  further. 
They  never  gorge  themselves  to  a  surfeit,  and  they  seek 
no  stimulants.  The  range  of  their  appetite  is  narrow.  A 
few  grasses,  with  the  pure  flowing  water  to  drink,  meet  all 
their  wants.  But  man's  physical  appetites  are  multitu- 
dinous, and,  what  is  yet  worse,  they  are  exorbitant.  They 
are  continually  reaching  out  beyond  the  proper  limits,  and 
beyond  what  the  organism  requires,  and  bring  his  higher 
intellectual  and  moral  nature  into  subjection  to  themselves. 
The  history  of  human  civilization  is  to  a  great  extent  the 
history  of  human  luxury ;  and  the  history  of  human  lux- 
ury is  the  history  of  bodily  appetites  growing  more  and 
more  inordinate,  and  growing  by  what  they  feed  upon. 
The  very  civilization  of  which  we  hear  so  much,   and 

'  Compare  Plutarch :  On  Natural  Affection  toward  one's  Oflfspring. 


26  CHRISTIAN   MODERATION. 

which  is  so  often  represented  as  the  unmixed  glory  of  the 
human  race,  the  evidence  and  record  of  its  advance  to- 
ward perfection,  is  in  one  of  its  aspects  the  record  of  its 
shame,  and  the  evidence  of  its  apostasy.  For  it  brings  to 
view  the  corruption  of  human  nature  upon  the  physical 
side.  It  reveals  acquired  and  unnatural  appetites,  fed  and 
satiated  by  ingenious  supplies.  The  whole  industry  and 
energy  of  entire  classes  of  laborers  and  artisans  is  employed 
in  ministering  to  extreme  cravings,  and  unhealthy  wants, 
that  could  have  no  existence  if  human  nature  were  pos- 
sessed of  that  physical  sobriety  and  moderation  which  the 
Bible  enjoins,  or  even  of  that  temperance  which  the  Greek 
philosopher  praised  and  recommended. 

That  which  is  true  of  man  generally,  is  true  of  the  in- 
dividual. There  are  great  obstacles  to  that  well-regu- 
lated temper  which  Solomon  recommends  in  the  text,  aris- 
ing from  flesh  and  sense.  There  is  no  need  of  entering  into 
any  detail,  for  every  man's  own  consciousness  will  testify 
that  every  day,  and  every  hour,  "  the  body  of  this  death," 
this  "vile  body,"  as  St.  Paul  denominates  it,  stands  in 
opposition  to  that  calm  and  equable  frame  of  soul  which  is 
"  slow  to  anger."  The  corruption  of  nature  is  constantly 
showing  itself  in  a  rush  to  an  extreme.  The  natural  ap- 
petites, which  were  implanted  in  order  to  preserve  the 
body  from  weakness  and  decay,  and  which  in  their  original 
and  pure  condition  were  aids  to  virtue  and  holy  living — 
these  very  appetences,  now  extreme  and  disordered,  are 
strong  temptations  to  sin,  and  the  very  worst  obstacles  to 
holiness.  "  How  is  the  gold  become  dim !  How  is  the  most 
fine  gold  changed  ! "  All  that  part  of  our  being  which 
connects  us  with  this  glorious  outer  world,  and  which  was 
originally  intended  to  subserve  our  spiritual  interests,  and 
to  assist  in  preparing  us  for  a  final  blessed  destination, 
has  by  apostasy  become  subservient  to  our  destruction. 


CHRISTIAN   MODERATION.  27 

The  physical  appetites  which  in  their  pure  state,  as  seen 
in  holy  Adam  and  in  the  sinless  humanity  of  our  Blessed 
Lord,  contributed  directly  to  a  well-regulated  and  well- 
governed  frame  of  the  soul,  now  tend  directly  to  throw 
it  off  its  equilibrium,  and  to  fill  it  with  restlessness  and 
dissatisfaction — to  make  it  a  troubled  sea  whose  waters 
cast  up  mire  and  dirt. 

2.  But  again,  in  the  second  place,  this  Christian  sobriety 
and  moderation  meets  with  an  obstacle  in  man's  disordered 
mental  nature.  The  prophet  Isaiah,  in  describing  human 
sinfulness,  remarks  that  the  "  whole  head  is  sick."  The 
apostasy  of  Adam  has  affected  the  nobler  and  liigher  part 
of  man,  as  well  as  his  lower  and  meaner  part.  The  dis- 
order that  now  prevails  in  his  intellectual  and  moral 
nature  opposes  his  most  earnest  endeavors  to  be  "slow  to 
anger,"  and  to  "  rule  his  spirit."  Consider,  for  instance, 
how  lawless  and  ungoverned  is  the  human  imagination. 
This  is  a  faculty  of  a  high  order,  and  by  it  man  is  capable 
of  "  thoughts  that  wander  through  eternity."  But  as  it 
now  exists  in  fallen  man,  it  is  the  source  of  the  most  way- 
ward and  perverse  mental  action.  It  fills  the  soul  with 
extravagant  conceits,  greedy  desires,  unreal  joys,  and  un- 
real sorrows.  The  believer  is  commanded  by  the  Apostle 
Paul,  to  "  cast  down  imaginations,  and  every  high  thing 
that  exalts  itself  against  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  to 
bring  every  thought  into  captivity  to  the  obedience 
of  Christ."  But  he  finds  it  one  of  his  most  difiicult  tasks, 
because  the  disorder  and  the  lawlessness  are  so  very  far 
within  him.  It  is  in  some  respects  easier  to  control  the 
physical  appetites  than  to  rule  an  inflamed  and  extrava- 
gant fancy.  That  youth,  for  example,  who  has  stimulated 
his  imagination  by  the  immoderate  and  long-continued 
reading  of  fiction,  has  a  harder  task  before  him,  in  some 
particulars,  than  the  drunkard  or  the  debauchee.     He  has 


28  CHRISTIAN   MODERATIOIT. 

introduced  extravagance  and  lawlessness  into  a  faculty 
■which  in  its  best  condition  is  liable  to  waywardness,  and 
he  discovers,  when  he  attempts  to  undo  his  own  work,  that 
he  has  a  life-long  labor  before  him.  How  many  there  are,  in 
tliis  age  of  voracious  and  indiscriminate  novel-reading,  who 
will  tell  us  that  they  have  ruined  their  intellects  by  their 
folly;  that  they  have  lost  the  power  of  sober,  concatenated 
thinking ;  that  they  are  carried  along  passively  by  the  cur- 
rents of  fanciful  imaginings  that  surge  and  dash  within 
them  ;  that  they  have  no  rule  of  tlieir  own  minds,  and  when- 
ever the  temptation  presents  they  are  swift  to  wrath,  and 
every  other  impulsive  passion. 

Again,  the  human  understanding  itself — that  compara- 
tively cool  and  nnimpassioned  part  of  the  human  soul — 
opposes  obstacles  to  Christian  sobriety  and  moderation.  A 
man's  purely  intellectual  conclusions  and  convictions  may 
be  so  one-sided  and  extreme  as  to  spoil  liis  temper.  Fa- 
naticism in  every  age  furnishes  examples  of  this.  The 
fanatic  is  generally  an  intellectual  person.  He  is  vehement 
and  extreme,  not  for  the  sake  of  a  vice  or  a  pleasure,  but 
for  the  sake  of  an  opinion  or  a  doctrine.  His  ungoverned 
temper  does  not  commonly  spring  out  of  sensual  appetites 
and  indulgences.  On  the  contrary,  his  blood  is  usually 
cold  and  thin,  and  his  life  abstemious  and  ascetical.  But 
his  passion  runs  to  his  brain.  He  holds  an  intellectual 
opinion  or  an  intellectual  conviction  that  is  but  a  half- 
truth,  with  a  spasmodic  energy ;  and  the  consequence  is, 
that  he  is  swift  to  anger,  and  reckless  of  consequences  in 
that  direction.  No  large  and  comprehensive  vision,  and 
no  moderate  and  well-balanced  temper,  is  possible  when 
passion  has  in  this  manner  woiked  its  way  into  the  under- 
standing. Every  age  of  the  world  affords  examples  of  this 
kind.  How  many  individual  Christians,  and  how  many 
individual  churches,  have  lost  their  Christian  sobriety  and 


CHEISTIAN  MODERATIOIT.  29 

their  charitable  moderation,  because  they  have  "leaned 
to  their  own  understanding,"  and  as  a  consequence  their 
understanding  acquired  a  leaning  and  lost  its  equipoise. 

From  these  sources,  then,  we  find  obstacles  issuing  that 
oppose  the  formation  of  that  temper  which  the  Apostle 
Paul  has  in  view  when  he  says :  "  Let  your  moderation  be 
known  to  all  men,"  and  which  Solomon  recommends  when 
he  says :  "  He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better  than  the 
mighty,  and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a 
city."  Our  corrupt  physical  nature,  and  our  disordered  men- 
tal constitution,  are  continually  drawing  us  aside  from  that 
true  golden  mean  between  all  extremes  which  should  ever 
be  before  the  eye  of  a  Christian,  and  which  he  must  attain 
in  order  to  enter  the  world  where  everything  is  symmetrical 
and  harmonious,  like  the  character  of  God  himself. 

III.  We  are,  therefore,  led  to  inquire,  in  the  third  place, 
for  the  true  source  of  this  Christian  temperance  and  mod- 
eration. Such  a  spirit  as  we  have  been  speaking  of  must 
have  its  root  in  love.  The  secret  of  such  an  even  temper 
is  charity ;  the  "  charity  that  suffereth  long  and  is  kind, 
that  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  seeketh  not  her 
own,  thinketh  no  evil."  No  man  can  have  this  large- 
minded,  comprehensive,  and  unshaken  equilibrium,  who 
does  not  love  God  supremely  and  his  neighbor  as  himself. 
We  have  already  noticed  that  the  wise  pagan  thinkers 
had  an  idea  of  some  such  well-balanced  temper  and  spirit. 
They  were  painfully  conscious  of  the  passionateness  of  the 
human  soul,  and  its  inclination  to  rush  into  extremes — ex- 
tremes of  physical  license,  and  extremes  of  intellectual 
license.  But  they  knew  no  method  of  curing  the  evil,  and 
they  never  cured  it.  And  there  was  a  good  reason.  They 
could  not  generate  holy  love  in  their  own  hearts,  or  in  the 
hearts  of  others.  The  human  heart  is  carnal,  and  thereby 
at  enmity  with  God ;  it  is  selfish,  and  thereby  at  enmity 


30  CHRISTIAN   MODERATION. 

"with  man.  So  long  as  this  is  the  character  of  man,  it  is 
impossible  for  him  to  be  "slow  to  anger"  and  to  "rule  his 
spirit."  The  physical  appetite  will  be  constantly  break- 
ing over  its  proper  limits,  the  imagination  will  be  lawless, 
and  the  understanding  proud  and  opinionated.  But  the 
instant  the  enmity  ceases  and  the  charity  begins,  the  sel- 
fish passionateness  and  license  disappear.  You  cannot 
rule  your  impulsive  spirit,  you  cannot  curb  and  control 
your  lawless  appetites,  by  a  mere  volition.  You  cannot 
bring  all  your  mental  and  physical  powers  into  equilibrium 
by  a  dead  lift.  The  means  is  not  adequate  to  the  end. 
Kothing  but  the  power  of  a  new  affection ;  nothing  but 
the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  your  heart,  and  the  love 
of  Christ  sweetly  swaying  and  constraining  you,  can  per- 
manently and  perfectly  reduce  all  the  restlessness  and 
recklessness  of  your  nature  to  order  and  harmony.  And 
this  can  do  it.  There  is  something  strangely  powerful 
and  transforming  in  love.  It  is  not  limited  in  its  influence 
to  any  one  part  of  the  soul,  but  it  penetrates  and  pervades 
the  whole  of  it,  as  quicksilver  penetrates  the  pores  of  gold. 
A  conception  is  confined  to  the  understanding ;  a  volition 
stops  with  the  will ;  but  an  affection  like  heavenly  charity 
diffuses  itself  through  the  entire  man.  Head  and  heart, 
reason,  will,  and  imagination,  are  all  modified  by  it.  The 
revolutionizing  effect  of  this  feeling  within  the  sphere  of 
human  relations  is  well  understood.  When  the  romantic 
passion  is  awakened,  it  expels  for  the  time  being  all  others, 
and  this  period  of  human  life  takes  its  entire  tone  and 
color  from  the  affection.  Even  the  clown  becomes  gentle 
and  chivalrous  under  its  influence.'  But  this  is  vastly 
more  true  of  the  spiritual  and  heavenly  love.  When  this 
springs  up  in  the  soul,  all  the  thoughts,  all  the  purposes,  all 

'  See  Dryden's  Cymon  and  Iphigenia. 


CHEISTIAN   MODERATION.  31 

the  passions,  and  all  the  faculties  of  the  soul  are  changed 
by  it.  And  particularly  is  its  influence  seen  in  rectifying 
the  disorder  and  lawlessness  of  the  soul.  Pleavenly  charity 
cannot  be  resisted.  Pride  melts  away  under  its  warm 
breath ;  selfishness  disappears  under  its  glowing  influence ; 
anger  cannot  stand  before  its  gentle  force.  Whatever  be 
the  form  of  sin  that  offers  resistance,  it  inevitably  yields 
before  "  love  unfeigned  ;  love  out  of  a  pure  heart."  "  Char- 
ity never  faileth,"  says  the  Apostle  Paul.  "  Love  con- 
quers all  things,"  says  the  pagan  Ovid. 

Our  subject,  then,  teaches  the  necessity  of  the  new  hirth. 
It  corroborates  our  Lord's  declaration :  "  Except  a  man 
be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 
For,  how  is  this  heavenly  affection,  which  is  to  subdue  and 
quell  all  the  passion  and  wrath  of  human  nature,  to  be 
generated  ?  It  is  "  not  born  of  blood,  or  of  the  will  of  the 
flesh,  or  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God."  There  may  be 
outward  self-control,  without  any  inward  self-government. 
It  is  not  enough  that  we  do  riot  exhibit  our  anger  and 
our  passion.  It  must  be  eradicated.  It  is  not  enough 
that  we  rein  in  a  restive  spirit.  The  very  spirit  itself 
must  become  mild  and  gentle.  It  is  a  weary,  and  in  the 
end  a  profitless,  effort  which  that  man  puts  forth,  who 
attempts  to  obey  such  an  injunction  as  that  of  Solomon 
in  the  text,  without  laying  his  foundation  deep  in  a 
renovated  nature.  In  the  opening  of  the  discourse, 
we  alluded  to  the  fact  that  the  ethics  of  Solomon  must 
follow  after  the  evangelical  doctrines  of  the  Gospels 
and  the  Epistles.  In  like  manner,  the  cultivation  of  a 
symmetrical  and  beautiful  moderation  of  both  the  bodily 
appetites  and  the  mental  passions,  in  order  to  be  successful, 
nmst  be  preceded  by  a  change  of  heart.  Otherwise  there 
is  nothing  but  the  austere  and  ungenial  attempt  of  a 
moralist  to  perform  a  repulsive  task.     Love — holy  and 


32  CHEISTIAN  MODERATION. 

heavenly  charity — must  be  generated,  and  then  under  its 
spontaneous  and  happy  impulse  it  will  be  comparatively 
easy  to  rectify  the  lemaining  corruption,  and  repress  the 
lingering  excesses  and  extremes  of  appetite  and  passion. 
When  the  Apostle  John  had  become  so  far  advanced  in 
years,  that  he  could  no  longer  exhibit  the  fire  and  force  of 
that  earlier  period  when  he  was  one  of  the  sons  of  thunder, 
he  caused  himself  to  be  carried  into  the  assemblies  of  the 
Christians,  and  in  weak  and  faltering  accents  said  :  "  Chil- 
dren, love  one  another ;  children,  love  one  another."  This 
tradition  of  the  Early  Church  accords  well  with  the  tone 
and  teachings  of  those  three  Epistles  which  were  among 
the  last  utterances  of  the  last  of  the  apostles.  Heavenly 
charity,  after  a  life  prolonged  nearly  one  hundred  years, 
had  become  the  dominant  affection  of  the  soul.  And 
how  almost  impossible  it  would  have  been  to  have  ruffled 
that  heavenly  temper !  How  easy  it  was  for  him  to  rule 
his  spirit !  How  slow  to  anger  must  he  have  become ! 
In  the  days  of  his  early  discipleship,  St,  John  was  swift 
to  wrath,  and  upon  one  occasion  sought  to  persuade  the 
serene  and  compassionate  Redeemer  to  command  the 
lightnings  to  come  down  from  the  sky,  and  consume 
the  Samaritan  village  that  would  not  receive  him.  But 
in  the  last  days  of  his  apostleship  and  his  pilgrimage,  he 
had  breathed  in  the  kind  and  compassionate  spirit  of  his 
Master,  and  his  utterance  was  a  very  different  one. 

That  which  St.  John  needed  is  needed  by  human 
nature  always  and  everywhere.  We  are  not  better  than 
he.  There  are  in  every  man  the  same  inordinate  pas- 
sions, and  the  same  need  of  a  radical  transformation.  He 
became  a  changed  creature,  the  lion  was  converted  into  the 
lamb,  through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ — by  an  act  of  trust  and 
confidence  in  the  Divine  Redeemer.  His  own  words  are : 
"  Whosoever  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ — is  lorn  of 


CHKISTIAN   MODERATION.  33 

God:  and  whatsoever  is  born  of  God  overcometh  the 
world,  and  this  is  the  victory  that  overcometh  the  world, 
even  our  faith.  We  know  that  whosoever  is  born  of  God 
sinneth  not ;  but  he  that  is  begotten  of  God  keepeth  him- 
self, and  that  wicked  one  toucheth  him  not.  And  we 
know  that  the  Son  of  God  is  come,  and  hath  given  us  an 
understanding,  that  we  may  know  him  that  is  true ;  and 
we  are  in  him  that  is  true,  even  in  his  son  Jesus  Christ. 
This  is  the  true  God  and  eternal  life."  Here  is  positive 
affirmation  and  asseveration.  "AVe  hnowP  It  is  the 
utterance  of  a  personal  experience,  and  an  infallible  in- 
spiration. 

Confide  then  in  the  Son  of  God.  Put  your  eternal  des- 
tiny into  His  hands.  Do  not  look  down  into  the  dark 
deep  well  of  your  own  helplessness  and  guilt  for  pardon 
and  purification,  but  look  up  for  these  into  the  infinitude 
and  grace  of  Him  "  in  whom  dwells  all  the  fulness  of  the 
God  head  bodily."  That  look  is  faith  5  and  faith  is 
salvation. 


SERMON  III. 

THE  SUPREME  EXCELLENCE  OF  GOD. 


Matthew  xix.  16,  17. — "And  behold,  one  came,  and  said  unto  him, 
Good  Master,  what  good  thing  shall  I  do,  that  I  may  have  eternal  life  ? 
And  he  said  unto  him,  Why  callest  thou  me  good  ?  there  is  none  good 
but  one,  that  is  God. " 


The  eternal  Son  of  God  knew  perfectly  what  was  in 
every  man  who  came  nnto  him  in  the  days  of  his  flesh. 
AVith  far  more  accuracy  and  certainty  than  man  can  read 
the  character  in  the  expression  of  the  eye,  or  in  the  feat- 
ures of  the  face,  did  the  onmiscient  Redeemer  read  the 
character  of  the  very  soul  itself,  in  its  inward  expression 
and  lineaments.  Hence  his  answers  to  questions  always 
had  reference  to  the  disposition  and  temper  of  the  ques- 
tioner. "Our  Saviour  Christ,"  says  Lord  Bacon,  "not 
being  like  man,  who  knows  man's  thoughts  by  his  M'ords, 
but  knowing  men's  thoughts  immediately,  he  never  an- 
swered their  words,  but  their  thoughts."  Thus,  when  the 
chief  priests  and  elders  of  the  people  came  unto  him  as  he 
was  teaching,  and  asked  by  what  authority  he  did  so,  and 
who  gave  him  the  authority,  knowing  that  this  question 
was  not  put  from  any  sincere  desire  to  learn  the  truth  re- 
specting himself  and  his  M'-orks,  but  from  a  wish  to  work 
him  evil,  he  answered  their  question  by  asking  them  a  ques- 
tion regarding  the  baptism  of  John — a  question  which, 
however  they  answered  it,  would  condemn  their  past  treat- 


SUPREME   EXCELLEKCE.  35 

ment  of  John,  and  their  present  refusal  to  acknowledge 
himself  to  be  the  Messiah  of  whom  John  was  the  fore- 
runner. Again,  when  one  asked  the  question,  "Are  there 
few  to  be  saved  ?  "  our  Lord,  knowing  that  an  idle  curiosity 
had  prompted  it,  answered  by  saying,  "  Strive  to  enter  in 
at  the  strait  gate ;  for  many,  I  say  imto  you,  will  seek  to 
enter  in,  and  shall  not  be  able."  So,  also,  in  the  answer  of 
the  Saviour  to  the  young  man  who  had  come  asking,  "What 
good  thing  shall  I  do  that  I  may  have  eternal  life  ?  "  refer- 
ence is  had  to  the  state  of  the  young  man's  opinions.  Our 
Lord  knew  that  this  youth  did  not  look  upon  the  person 
whom  he  was  addressing  as  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  but 
as  a  wise  human  teacher  in  the  things  of  the  law  ;  and  that 
he  applied  to  him  not  as  the  Truth  itself,  and  the  Life  it- 
self, but  only  as  knowing,  perhaps,  some  portion  of  infinite 
truth,  and  as  being  able,  perhaps,  to  point  out  the  way  to 
eternal  life.  Hence  our  Lord  begins  his  reply  by  inquir- 
ing, "  "Why  callest  thou  me  good  ?  "  Instead  of  first  cor- 
recting the  young  man's  erroneous  view  of  the  nature  and 
character  of  the  person  to  whom  he  was  speaking,  he  pro- 
ceeds as  if  it  were  a  true  one.  "  You  consider  me  to  be  a 
mere  man ;  why  do  you  call  any  mere  man  good  ?  Why 
do  you  address  a  creature  as  the  Holy  One  ?  There  is 
none  good  but  one,  that  is  God." 

By  this  reply  the  Saviour  intended  to  bring  into  the  light 
the  main  error  of  the  young  man — the  opinion,  namely, 
that  any  man  is  good  in  and  of  himself.  He  desired  to 
awaken  in  him  a  sense  of  sin,  so  that  the  self-righteous 
youth  might  be  delivered  from  his  pride  and  self-satisfac- 
tion, and  be  led  to  look  away  from  himself  and  his  own 
works  to  God,  the  source  and  ground  of  all  goodness  ;  and 
more  particularly  to  that  Mediator  between  God  and  man 
who  then  and  there  stood  before  him. 

This  text,  then,  invites  us  to  contemplate  the  jpre-emir 


36  THE  SUPKEME 

nence  of  the  Divine  excellence  over  that  of  creatures,  and 
to  draw  some  inferences  from  the  fact.  What,  then,  are 
the  senses  in  which  "  there  is  none  good  but  one,  that  is 
God?" 

I.  In  the  first  place,  God  is  the  only  necessarily  good 
Being.  We  natm-ally  shrink  from  applying  the  conception 
of  necessity  to  a  free  spirit ;  but  it  is  because  we  associate 
with  it  the  notion  of  external  compulsion.  God  is  not 
forced  to  be  holy  by  an  agency  outside  of  himself,  and 
other  than  his  own ;  and  it  is  not  in  this  sense  that  he  is 
necessarily  good. 

But  there  is  a  necessity  that  has  its  foundation  in  the 
nature  and  idea  of  a  thing,  as  when  we  say  that  a  triangle 
necessarily  has  three  sides.  We  say  that  God  is  necessarily 
existent,  not  because  he  is  forced  to  exist  by  something  out 
of  himself,  but  because  the  idea  of  an  infinite  and  abso- 
lutely perfect  Being  implies  necessity  of  being.  A  being 
who  once  did  not  exist,  and  who  may  become  extinct,  is  a 
finite  and  imperfect  being,  and  consequently  not  God.  In 
like  manner  God  is  necessarily  holy,  because  the  concep- 
tion of  infinite  excellence  excludes  the  possibility  of  apos- 
tasy and  sin  which  attaches  to  finite  virtue.  Infinite  holi- 
ness is  immutable,  and  therefore  infinite  sinfulness  is 
impossible.  God's  will  is  one  with  his  reason  in  such  a 
mode  that  the  supposition  of  a  schism  and  conflict  between 
the  two  contradicts  the  idea  of  God.  In  the  case  of  a  finite 
creature,  we  can  conceive  of  a  conflict  between  the  con- 
stitutional and  the  executive  faculties  without  any  altera- 
tion in  the  grade  of  existence ;  but  if  the  infinite  Creator 
fall  into  collision  with  himself,  he  is  no  longer  infinite. 
Man's  will  may  come  into  hostility  to  his  conscience,  and 
he  still  remain  human.  Angels  may  fall,  and  still  be 
angels.  Both  continue  in  the  same  relative  grade  of  ex- 
istence as  before  the  change — that  of  a  finite  and  mutable 


EXCELLENCE   OF   GOD.  37 

creature.  But  if  a  schism  and  conflict  should  be  intro- 
duced into  the  Godhead,  and  he  should  fall  into  collision 
with  himself,  he  would  by  that  single  fact  prove  himself 
to  belong  to  a  changeable  and  finite  grade  of  being.  It 
could  not  be  said  of  him  :  "  Thou  art  the  same  from  ever- 
lasting to  everlasting.  With  thee  there  is  no  variableness, 
neither  shadow  of  turning."  At  such  a  catastrophe,  hell 
from  beneath  would  be  moved  with  a  more  profound 
amazement  than  that  which  greeted  the  fallen  Lucifer, 
and  with  a  more  awful  surprise  than  heart  can  conceive  of 
there  would  burst  from  all  the  ranks  of  limited  and  nni ta- 
ble intelligences  the  utterance:  "Art  thou,  the  Eternal, 
become  like  one  of  us  ? "  The  unique  and  transcendent 
perfection,  then,  of  an  infinite  Being  precludes  the  possi- 
bility of  his  becoming  finite  in  any  respect — and  to  become 
evil  is  to  become  finite  ;  nay,  more,  is  to  become  weak,  and 
miserable,  and  guilty. 

But  not  only  does  the  idea  of  the  Deity  imply  his  neces- 
sary excellence,  it  is  implied  also  in  his  position  and  rela- 
tionships. From  the  very  nature  of  these,  the  divine  will 
cannot  be  divorced  from  the  divine  reason  and  come  into 
hostility  to  it.  "  God  cannot  be  tempted,"  says  St.  James, 
and  there  cannot  be  sin  without  temptation.  There  is 
nothing  greater  and  better  than  the  Infinite  that  can  be  an 
inducement  to  apostasy.  When  man  apostatized,  there  was 
something  above  him  which  he  was  reaching  out  after. 
He  desired  to  become  "  as  gods."  He  expected  to  attain 
a  higher  position.  But  God  is  already  God — infinite,  self- 
sufficing,  and  blessedly  self-satisfied.  There  is  nothing 
higher  than  himself  to  reach  after.  I^o  motive  to  sin  can 
assail  the  Supreme,  and  therefore  sin  is  impossible  to  him. 
In  order  to  be  tempted,  God  was  compelled  to  become  in- 
carnate, and  assume  a  finite,  temptable  nature. 

Will  and  reason,  then,  in  God  are  one  and  inseparable, 


38  THE   SUPREME 

and  he  is  necessarily  good  in  the  same  sense  that  he  is 
necessarily  existent.  There  is  no  compulsion  from  with- 
out, but  the  necessity  is  implied  in  the  idea  of  the  Being. 
God's  pure  and  perfect  nature  is  the  law  and  principle  of 
God's  pure  and  perfect  character.  Should  the  two  become 
contrary  and  hostile,  the  Infinite  would  become  finite,  the 
Creator  would  become  a  creature.  There  is  none  good, 
then,  but  God,  in  the  sense  that  if  he  becomes  evil  he 
loses  his  grade  of  being.  The  divine  excellence,  there- 
fore, is  as  necessary  and  immutable  as  the  divine  existence. 
Does  God  cease  to  be  holy,  he  ceases  to  be  deity. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  God  is  the  only  originally  good 
Being.  All  rational  creatures,  if  they  are  good,  derive  their 
goodness.  They  are  not  good  in  and  of  themselves  as 
the  ultimate  source.  They  look  up  to  a  yet  better  Being, 
and  confess  that  they  are  only  reflections  of  a  splendor  and 
glory  that  is  above  them.  Hence  the  finite  mind  adores  / 
but  the  infinite  mind  never  does  or  can.  Hence  the 
angel  lifts  up  his  eye  in  the  beatific  vision,  that  his  soul 
may  rest  upon  a  deeper  and  firmer  virtue  than  his  own. 
Hence  the  man  prays  and  supplicates  for  an  excellence  that 
is  not  aboriginal  and  necessarily  connected  with  his  own 
being.  But  God  is  goodness,  not  merely  has  it.  God  is 
love,  not  merely  has  it.  God  is  light,  not  merely  has  it. 
Will  and  reason  are  identical  in  him.  He  is  not  excellent 
because  his  nature  derives  excellence  from  another's 
nature,  but  because  it  is  infinite  excellence  itself.  Right- 
eousness is  not  so  much  a  particular  attribute  of  God  as  it 
is  his  essential  quality  ;  the  supporter  of  his  attributes, 
that  which  is  the  substrate  of  them  all,  that  which  pene- 
trates them  and  makes  them  fair,  lovely,  and  perfect.  As 
the  earth  is  at  once  the  bearer  and  nourisher  of  all  trees 
and  fruits,  and  by  its  genial  influence  and  nurture  makes 
them  pleasant  to  the  e3'e  and  good  for  food,  so  righteous- 


EXCELLENCE   OF   GOD.  d9 

ness  is  tlie  nnderljing  ground  of  all  the  attributes  of  God. 
Righteousness  imparts  to  the  divine  justice  its  serene  and 
awful  beauty,  liighteousness  regulates  the  divine  mercy, 
and  prevents  it  from  becoming  mere  indulgence.  Right- 
eousness enters  into  all  the  natural  attributes  of  Jeho- 
vah, and  renders  his  onmipotence,  and  omnipresence — his 
otherwise  soulless  and  characterless  traits — worthy  of  love 
and  reverence.  The  Platonists  speak  of  an  original  light 
that  is  the  source  of  all  the  light  of  the  sun  and  stars — a 
light  that  is  pureness  itself,  and  gives  to  the  sun  its  dazzle 
and  to  the  stars  their  sparkle.  So  righteousness  is  the 
aboriginal  rectitude  from  which  all  the  qualities  of 
Jehovah  derive  their  worth  and  perfection,  and  of  which 
all  finite  virtue  is  the  faint  reflection. 

III.  In  the  third  place,  God  is  the  only  self-suhsistently 
good  Being.  His  excellence  does  not  depend  upon  the  will 
and  power  of  any  other  than  himself.  All  created  spirits, 
as  we  have  already  hinted,  must  look  to  God  for  the  exist- 
ence and  perpetuity  of  righteousness  within  themselves ; 
but  God  looks  only  to  himself  that  he  may  be  righteous. 
As  he  is  self-subsistent  in  his  being,  so  he  is  in  his  char- 
acter. The  divine  will  needs  no  strengthening  in  order  to 
its  continuing  holy,  because  it  is  already  an  infinite  force. 
Its  energy  is  omnipotent,  and  we  have  seen  that  it  is  so 
blended  and  one  with  the  divine  reason  that  a  separation 
and  antagonism  is  conceivable  only  upon  the  supposition 
that  God  ceases  to  be  infinite.  The  goings  forth  of  the 
divine  will  are  without  variableness  or  shadow  of  turning. 
From  eternity  to  eternity  the  decisions  and  determinations 
of  God  are  but  the  efflux  of  the  divine  essence,  and  partici- 
pate in  the  immanent  and  necessary  characteristics  of  the 
divine  constitution.  The  triune  God,  therefore,  is  indepen- 
dently good.  Though  the  finite  creation  should  all  aposta- 
tize and  become  evil,  yet  God  remains  the  same  Holy  One 


40  THE   SUPREME 

for  ever.  Man  is  affected  by  the  fall  of  man ;  angels  are 
seduced  from  their  allegiance  by  angels ;  God  alone  is 
unmoved  and  unaffected  by  all  the  change  and  apostasy  of 
creation.  In  the  calm  air  of  his  own  eternity  he  exists 
unchangeably  holy,  because  of  a  self-sufficient  and  self-sus- 
taining power  ;  while  angels  and  men  fall  away  from  holi- 
ness and  from  him,  and  introduce  sin  and  death  into  the 
universe. 

lY.  And  this  leads  naturally  to  the  fourth  position, 
that  God  is  the  only  immutably  good  Being.  This  is  a 
glorious  truth  for  every  created  mind  that  is  good,  and  de- 
sires to  remain  so.  The  Supreme  Being  is  unchangeably 
excellent.  The  infinitude  of  his  nature  places  him  beyond 
all  the  possibilities,  contingencies,  and  hazards  of  finite  exist- 
ence. All  the  created  universe  may  fall  from  goodness, 
but  God  is  no  part  of  the  universe.  He  created  all  the 
worlds  from  nothing,  and  whatever  they  may  be  or  do  does 
not  in  the  least  affect  his  nature  and  attributes.  God  is 
the  Being  from  whom  other  beings  fall  away  into  sin  and 
misery.  As  the  essence  of  God  would  not  be  affected  in 
the  least  if  the  entire  substance  of  the  universe  should  be 
annihilated,  or  if  it  had  never  been  made  f  i-om  nothing,  so 
the  moral  excellence  of  God  would  not  be  diminished  in 
the  slightest  manner  though  all  the  creatures  of  his  power 
should  plunge  into  the  abyss  of  evil.  Amidst  the  sin  of  a 
world,  and  in  opposition  to  the  kingdom  and  prince  of 
evil,  God  remains  immutably  holy,  and  by  the  intrinsic  and 
eternal  immaculateness  of  his  character  is  entitled  to  deal 
out  an  eternal  judgment,  and  a  righteous  retribution,  upon 
every  soul  that  doeth  evil.  Though  he  sees  in  his  universe 
nnich  iniquity,  yet  he  is  of  purer  ej'es  than  to  look  upon  it 
with  any  indulgence.  Though  sin  has  been  the  product  of 
the  will  of  man  for  six  thousand  years,  yet  his  moral  anger 
burns  with  the  same  steady  and  di'eadf  ul  intensity  against 


EXCELLENCE  OP   GOD.  41 

it  now,  as  when  Adam  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God 
walking  in  the  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  and  was 
afi-aid,  and  hid  himself.  The  same  spiritual  excellence  in 
God  which  caused  the  flood  to  destroy  the  old  wicked 
world,  and  which  rained  fire  and  brimstone  upon  filthy 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  causes  him  to  be  displeased  with 
the  wicked  this  day,  and  every  day. 

ISTow,  there  is  something  indescribably  cheering  and 
strengthening  in  this  truth  and  fact.  As  we  look  abroad 
over  the  world  and  see  how  full  of  sin  it  is ;  as  we  reflect 
upon  the  limited  and  feeble  nature  of  all  finite  spirits, 
though  they  be  in  the  highest  range  of  the  heavenly  hier- 
archies ;  as  we  consider  the  liability  of  everything  within 
the  sphere  of  creation  to  undergo  changes  and  fluctuations ; 
it  imparts  a  serene  joy  and  a  calm  strength  to  the  soul  to 
lift  up  the  eye  to  the  eternal  hills,  and  to  remember  that 
above  all  this  sphere  of  finiteness  and  limitation  and  sin 
there  dwells  One  Being  who  is  the  same  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting,  and  who  is  not  under  any  possibilities  or 
liabilities  of  change  either  in  his  existence  or  his  charac- 
ter. For  the  very  thought  that  God  might  possibly  be- 
come like  his  creatures ;  that  he  of  whom  his  own  word 
asserts  "  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  lie,"  should  yet  be 
false  to  his  own  nature  and  to  his  word  ;  that  he,  to  whom 
the  seraphim  in  their  trisagion,  their  thrice-repeated  and 
intensely  emphasized  "  holy,"  ascribe  an  inherent  and  neces- 
sary perfection,  should  yet  become  vile  like  the  worms  of 
his  footstool — the  thought,  we  say,  that  the  Supreme 
Being,  the  first  cause  and  last  end  of  all  other  beings  and 
things,  might  possibly  become  unholy  and  unworthy,  sends 
a  shrinking  and  a  shudder  through  tlie  human  soul.  All 
sense  of  safety  and  security  disappears,  and  the  mind  feels 
that  there  is  no  difference  between  finite  and  Infinite  ;  be- 
tween the  creature  and  the  Creator.     Both  alike  are  liable 


42  THE  SUPREME 

to  the  contingency  of  apostasy.  Both  alike  may  grovel  in 
the  dust.  Kay,  rather,  let  us  fall  back  upon  the  immuta- 
bility and  intrinsic  unchangeableness  of  the  Divine  charac- 
ter, and  with  an  upward-looking  eye  say  with  one  of  the 
loftiest  and  lowliest  of  human  spirits  :  "  Lord,  I  have 
viewed  the  universe  over  in  which  thou  hast  set  me ;  I 
have  tried  how  this  thing  and  that  thing  will  fit  my  spirit, 
and  the  design  of  my  creation ;  and  can  find  nothing  in 
which  to  rest,  for  nothing  here  doth  itself  rest ;  but  such 
things  as  please  for  awhile,  in  some  degree,  vanish  and  flee 
as  shadows  before  me.  Lo,  I  come  to  thee,  the  Eternal 
Being,  the  Spring  of  Life,  the  Centre  of  Rest,  the  Stay  of 
the  Creation  ;  I  join  myself  to  thee  ;  with  thee  I  will  lead 
my  life  and  spend  my  days,  with  whom  I  aim  to  dwell 
forever,  expecting,  when  my  little,  finite,  fluctuating  time 
is  over,  to  be  taken  up  ere  long  into  thy  Eternity."  * 

Thus  is  it  true,  that  ' '  there  is  none  good  but  one,  that 
is  God."  There  is  but  one  Being  in  whom  righteousness 
and  holiness  are  necessary,  aboriginal,  self-subsistent,  and 
immutable. 

But  who  of  us  worthily  apprehends  this  great  truth  ? 
Who  of  us  sees  with  the  crystal  clearness  of  a  seraph's 
vision  that  God's  excellence  is  transcendent ;  that,  com- 
pared with  his  immaculateness,  angelic  purity  is  not  pure, 
and  the  stainless  heavens  are  not  clean  ?  Did  we  with 
open  vision  behold  the  infinite  excellence  of  the  Creator, 
we  should  be  awed  like  the  prophet  Isaiah  when  the  pillars 
of  the  temple  moved  at  the  voice  of  the  wing-veiled 
seraphim,  and  the  house  was  filled  with  smoke.  And  if 
our  minds  were  pure,  we  should  pass  by  all  the  holiness 
and  excellence  of  the  creature,  and  gaze  steadfastly  upon 
the  increate  and  underived  excellence  of  Jehovah,  and  by 

'  Howe  :  Vanity  of  Man  as  Mortal. 


EXCELLENCE   OF   GOD.  43^ 

thus  gazing  we  should  be  changed  into  the  same  image 
from  glory  to  glory  in  an  endless  succession.  But  we  lan- 
guish, we  perish,  from  lack  of  vision. 

That  we  may  be  moved  to  seek  the  vision  granted  to  the 
pure  in  heart,  let  us  now  attend  to  some  of  the  conclusions 
flowing  from  the  truth  that  "  there  is  none  good  but  one, 
that  is  God." 

1.  In  the  first  place,  then,  if  God  alone  is  supremely 
good,  he  alone  is  to  be  glorified  and  adored.  Goodness  is 
intrinsically  worthy  to  be  magnified  and  extolled.  Right- 
eousness is  fitted  to  awaken  ascriptions  of  blessing,  and 
honor,  and  thanksgiving,  and  glory,  and  dominion,  and 
power.  This  accounts  for  the  hallelujahs  of  heaven. 
There  is  a  quality  in  the  increate  and  transcending  excel- 
lence of  the  most  high  God  that  dilates  the  holy  mind, 
and  renders  it  enthusiastic.  Hence  the  saints  on  high  are 
made  vocal  and  lyrical  by  the  vision  of  God's  moral  per- 
fection, and  they  give  vent  to  their  emotions  in  "  the  seven- 
fold chorus  of  hallelujahs  and  harping  symphonies." 
There  is  much  of  this  in  the  experience  of  the  Psalndst. 
He  beholds  the  divine  excellence,  and  glories  in  it.  It  is 
a  species  of  humble  and  holy  boasting  of  the  greatness  and 
glory  of  Jehovah.  "  My  soul  shall  make  her  boast  in  the 
Lord  ;  O  magnify  the  Lord  with  me,  and  let  us  exalt  his 
name  together.  In  God  we  boast  all  the  day  long,  and 
praise  thy  name  forever."  There  is  that  in  the  divine 
character  which,  while  it  abases  the  creature  in  reference 
to  his  own  personal  character  and  merits,  exalts  and  sub- 
limes him  in  reference  to  the  excellence  of  his  Maker. 
This  is  that  unearthly  vision  which  visits  the  soul  of  the 
dying,  and  makes  his  voice  ring  like  a  clarion  in  his  pro- 
clamation and  heralding  of  what  God  is.  "  Praise  him" 
— said  the  dying  Evarts,  one  of  the  coolest,  and  calmest, 
and  most  judicial  of  minds,  in  his  ordinary  mood,  and  in 


44  THE  SUPREME 

reference  to  all  finite  things — "  praise  him  in  a  way  you 
know  not  of." 

This  inward  glorying  in  the  attributes  of  God  is  the 
great  duty  and  ultimate  end  of  man.  Man's  chief  end  is 
to  glorify  God.  Obedience  itself,  or  the  performance  of 
an  outward  service,  is  second  in  rank  to  this  inward  service 
of  worship,  when  the  soul  is  absorbed  and  lost  in  admira- 
tion of  the  divine  perfections.  All  that  the  creature  can 
do  for  God  is  little  or  nothing  ;  and  the  Almighty  cer- 
tainly does  not  need  the  labor  and  toil  of  any  of  his  crea- 
tures. But  the  service  is  a  greater  one  when  the  soul  ac- 
knowledges what  God  is  and  does.  In  this  instance,  the 
human  agency  acquires  an  added  dignity  and  value  from 
the  side  of  Divinity ;  even  as  sin  becomes  an  infinite  evil 
because  of  its  reference  to  God.  The  recognition  of  the 
divine  excellence,  and  the  inward  adoration  that  accom- 
panies it,  is  the  last  accomplishment  of  the  Christian  life; 
and  it  is  this  which  crowns,  and  completes,  and  thereby 
ends,  the  Christian  race  and  the  Christian  fight. 

Such  a  feeling  as  this  cannot  properly  go  out  toward 
any  being  but  the  Supremely  Good.  The  secondary  re- 
cipients from  the  primary  source  can  never  be  the  objects 
of  glory  and  exaltation.  Saint-worship  is  irrational.  For 
there  is  none  supremely  good  but  one,  and  none  but  the 
Supreme  deserves  the  exaltation.  As  there  is  but  one  life 
in  nature,  and  the  individual  tree  or  plant  is  alive  because 
it  partakes  of  it,  so  there  is  but  one  Eternal  Excellence,  and 
individual  spirits  are  excellent  because  tliey  participate  in 
it.  God  alone,  therefore,  is  worthy  to  receive  all  the 
glory,  and  all  the  extolling,  and  all  the  magnifying  that 
belongs  to  excellence.  To  unfold  the  illustration — when 
the  naturalist  looks  upon  the  tree  or  the  plant,  he  does  not 
ascribe  the  beauty  of  its  form  and  foliage,  and  the  richness 
of  its  fruit,  to  that  single  isolated  individual  specimen,  but 


EXCELLENCE   OF   GOD.  45 

to  the  great  general  life  in  nature  which  produced  it ;  to 
that  vast  vegetative  power  which  God  has  impressed  upon 
nature.  In  like  manner  when  we  see  moral  excellence  in 
the  creature,  we  do  not  ascribe  the  glory  and  praise  to  the 
individual,  but  to  that  Spirit  of  Good,  the  Holy  Spirit,  who 
produced  it  in  him.  Neither  men  nor  angels  are  worthy 
to  be  magnified  and  extolled,  because  their  virtue  is  not 
aboriginal.  The  really  good  man  or  angel  refers  his  char- 
acter to  God,  and  is  filled  with  abhorrence  at  the  thought 
of  glorifying  himself,  or  of  being  glorified  for  it.  And 
there  is  no  sin  that  so  grieves  him  as  his  propensity  to  a 
detestable  self -idolatry.  When  Paul  and  Barnabas,  after 
healing  the  cripple,  heard  that  the  priest  of  Jupiter  had 
brought  oxen  and  garlands  unto  the  gates,  and  was  about 
to  offer  sacrifice  with  the  people  unto  them  as  unto  gods 
come  down  in  the  likeness  of  men,  they  rent  their  clothes 
and  ran  in  among  the  people,  crying  out,  and  saying, 
"  Sirs,  why  do  ye  these  things  ?  We  also  are  men  of  like 
passions  with  you."  In  like  manner  does  every  finite 
spirit  that  really  partakes  of  the  Divine  excellence  recoil 
at  the  thought  of  ascriptions  of  praise  unto  himself,  and 
says  unto  those  who  would  forget  the  Creator  in  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  creature,  "  Why  marvel  ye  at  me  ?  or 
why  look  ye  so  earnestly  on  me,  as  though  by  my  own 
ultimate  power  or  holiness  I  am  holy  ?"  Whatever,  then, 
we  may  think  of  man,  and  however  we  may  regard  him, 
to  God  alone  belong  glory,  and  honor,  and  thanksgiving, 
and  blessing,  and  dominion,  and  power. 

2.  Secondly,  if  God  alone  is  supremely  good,  it  is  sin, 
and  the  very  essence  of  sin,  not  to  glorify  him. 

The  ultimate  form  of  moral  evil  consists  in  worshipping 
the  creature,  and  not  exalting  and  adoring  the  Creator. 
We  can  often  reduce  one  form  of  transgression  into 
another.     Theft  is  a  species  of  selfishness — an  attempt  to 


46  THE   SCPREME 

gratify  personal  desires  at  the  expense  of  another's  inter- 
est. Ambition  is  a  kind  of  rebellion — an  endeavor  to 
overleap  the  limits  which  have  been  prescribed  to  the  indi- 
vidual by  his  Maker.  And  so  it  is  easy  to  generalize 
almost  every  transgression,  and  find  its  root  in  a  wider  and 
deeper  principle  of  evil.  But  what  generalization  is  wider 
and  deeper  than  the  indisposition  to  worship  and  magnify 
God  in  the  heart  ?  Hence  the  apostle  Paul,  after  particu- 
larizing the  sins  of  the  heathen,  gathers  and  concentrates 
the  substance  of  all  their  sin  and  guilt  in  the  one  fact, 
"that  when  they  knew  God,  they  glorified  him  not  as 
God  "  ;  that  "  they  worshipped  the  creature  more  than  the 
Creator."  And  in  another  place,  when  he  would  exhibit 
the  universal  and  generic  quality  in  the  sin  of  man,  he 
strengthens  his  affirmation  that  "  all  have  sinned,"  by  the 
additional  clause,  "  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God." 
This  is  an  indictment  to  which  every  man  must  plead 
guilty,  and  which  stops  the  mouth  of  him  who  is  "  willing 
to  justify  himself."  For  who  has  worshipped  and  served 
the  eternal  God,  in  his  body  and  spirit  which  are  His,  as 
that  Being  is  worthy  to  be  worshipped  ?  Who  of  the 
sons  of  men  has  not  come  short  in  this  respect  ?  One  of 
the  Greek  words  for  sin  signifies  to  fail  of  hitting  the 
mark  by  reason  of  the  arrow's  not  coming  up  to  the  tar- 
get. If  this  be  the  idea  and  visual  image  of  sin,  who  of 
us  is  not  a  sinner  ? 

There  are  some  advantages,  and  there  are  also  some  dis- 
advantages, in  looking  upon  sin  as  consisting  in  disobeying 
particular  commandments;  in  not  keeping  this  or  that 
separate  precept;  in  swearing,  or  lying,  or  stealing.  We 
must  begin  with  this,  but  we  must  not  end  with  it.  If  we 
stop  at  this  point,  we  run  the  hazard  of  becoming  self- 
righteous.  We  are  in  danger  of  presuming  that  because 
we  do  not  lie,  or  swear,  or  steal,  we  are  morally  perfect. 


EXCELLENCE   OF   GOD.  47 

In  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  life,  the  eye  is  naturally 
and  properly  fixed  upon  those  separate  acts  of  transgres- 
sion upon  which  we  can  put  our  finger — that  more  exter- 
nal part  of  our  sinfulness  which  it  is  our  first  and  easiest 
duty  to  put  away.  But  we  soon  learn,  if  we  are  progres- 
sive, that  all  these  particular  transgressions  are  but  differ- 
ent modes  in  which  the  great  and  primitive  sin  of  human 
nature  manifests  itself ;  are  only  varied  exhibitions  of  that 
disinclination  and  aversion  to  glorify  God,  and  extol  him 
in  the  heart,  which  is  the  ultimate  and  original  sin  of  man. 
He,  therefore,  who  does  not,  after  putting  away  swearing, 
lying,  and  stealing,  look  down  a  little  lower  into  his  iieart, 
and  detect  the  yet  subtler  ramifications  of  his  corruption, 
will  be  likely  to  degenerate  into  a  mere  moralist,  instead 
of  becoming  one  of  those  spiritually-minded  Christians 
who  become  more  lowly,  and  humble,  and  broken-hearted, 
as  they  become  more  and  more  upright  and  obedient  in 
their  external  conduct.  The  biographies  of  men  like 
Leighton  and  Edwards  must  ever  be  a  mystery,  and  a  self- 
contradiction,  to  those  who  do  not  see  that  the  very  essence 
and  inmost  quality  of  sin  consists  in  the  lack  of  a  heart  to 
magnify  the  Lord,  and  to  exalt  his  holy  name.  Read  the 
diaries  of  such  men,  and  witness  their  moaning  in  secret 
over  the  vileness  of  their  hearts  ;  hear  the  outbursting  ex- 
pression that  "  the  sin  is  infinite  upon  infinite ;  "  and  then 
think  of  the  pure  and  saintly  course  of  their  lives,  when 
those  lives  are  tried  by  the  tests  of  external  and  single 
commandments,  and  does  it  not  seem  strange  and  para- 
doxical ?  These  men  were  not  hypocrites.  J^o  one  can 
suspect  them  of  this.  But  were  they  not  self-deceived 
and  mistaken  ?  So  some  critics  say,  who  judge  of  human 
character  by  the  more  superficial  and  outward  criteria. 

The  key  to  the  difficulty  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  for 
such  men  as  Leighton  and  Edwards  the  substance  and  in- 


48  THE  SUPEEME 

most  quality  of  sin  had  come  to  be  this  continual  fail- 
ure to  glorify  God  in  the  heart,  in  a  manner  worthy  of 
God's  infinite  excellence.  Their  character  in  this  particu- 
lar they  felt  to  be  imperfect.  They  were  sinners  in  this 
respect.  When  they  prayed,  their  prayers  were  defective 
from  a  lack  of  full  faith  in  God's  being  and  readiness  to 
bless ;  and  this  was  coming  short  of  God's  glory.  When 
they  praised  and  worshipped,  their  emotions  and  utter- 
ances were  far  below  God's  worthiness  and  desert ;  and 
this  was  coming  short  of  God's  glory.  When  they  obeyed 
the  statutes  and  commandments  of  God,  it  was  not  with 
that  totality  and  completeness  of  service  which  is  due  to 
such  a  perfect  and  excellent  Being ;  and  this  was  to  come 
short  of  the  Divine  glory.  They  could  not  say,  as  did  the 
only  perfect  man  that  ever  lived  upon  earth :  "  I  have 
glorified  thee  on  the  earth :  I  have  finished  the  work  thou 
gavest  me  to  do."  And  their  apprehension  of  the  sinful- 
ness of  this  falling  short  of  the  chief  end  of  man's  crea- 
tion was  as  painful  as  that  which  accompanies  an  ordinary 
Christian's  sense  of  guilt  when  he  violates  some  particular 
commandment  of  the  decalogue.  They  had  passed  be- 
yond the  more  common  forms  of  sin,  because  they  had,  in 
a  great  measure,  overcome  and  subdued  them.  A  class  of 
temptations  which  assail  us,  on  our  low  position  and  with 
our  low  degree  of  spirituality,  had  little  or  no  influence 
with  them ;  and  hence  we  wonder  that  their  expressions 
of  contrition  and  self-loathing  should  be  so  intense.  We 
think  that  if  our  lives  could  but  reach  the  pitch  of  excel- 
lence to  which  they  attained,  there  would  be  but  little 
cause  for  the  shame  and  lamentation  which  now  accompa- 
nies our  review  of  our  daily  walk  and  conversation.  But 
with  them  we  should  discover  that  in  respect  to  sin,  as  in 
respect  to  hell  itself,  "  in  every  deep  there  is  a  lower  deep." 
The  supreme  excellence  of  God,  and  the  spirituality  of 


EXCELLENCE   OF   GOD.  49 

his  law,  would  dawn  more  and  more  upon  our  rainds ;  the 
sense  of  our  obligation,  as  his  creatures,  to  magnify  and 
glorify  him  in  every  act  and  every  element  of  our  exist- 
ence, would  grow  stronger  and  stronger;  our  conscious- 
ness of  failure  to  render  this  perfect  homage  and  fealty 
would  become  deeper  and  deeper;  and  thus,  while  our 
obedience  of  particular  and  single  commandments  was  be- 
coming more  and  more  punctilious  and  uniform,  our  feel- 
ing of  defect  at  the  fountain-head  of  character  would 
become  more  and  more  poignant  and  self -abasing.  We 
should  see,  as  we  had  not  before,  that  the  very  core  and 
essence  of  moral  evil  consists  in  "  worshipping  and  serving 
the  creature  more  than  the  Creator."  We  should  under- 
stand that  there  is  no  sin  so  wearing  and  wearisome  as 
human  egotism — as  man's  inveterate  unwillingness  to  sink 
self,  and  renounce  all  idolatry,  in  the  liumble  and  adoring 
recognition  of  God's  infinite  perfection.  We  should  under- 
stand, and  sympathize  with,  that  low  and  penitential  refrain 
which  mingles  with  the  jubilant  music  of  all  the  saintly 
spirits  in  the  history  of  the  Church. 

Endeavor,  then,  to  get  into  this  mood  and  frame  of 
mind.  Be  impressed  with  the  greatness,  goodness,  and 
glory  of  God.  Let  the  Divine  attributes  encompass  you 
like  an  atmosphere.  Then  you  will  put  away  all  pride  and 
vain-glory,  and  can  say  in  the  language  of  that  exquisite 
psalm :  "  Lord,  my  heart  is  not  haughty,  nor  mine  eyes 
lofty  ;  neither  do  I  exercise  myself  in  great  matters,  or  in 
things  too  high  for  me.  Surely  I  have  behaved  and 
quieted  myself  as  a  child  that  is  weaned  of  his  mother ; 
my  soul  is  even  as  a  weaned  child." 
3 


SERMON  IV. 

THE  FATHEEHOOD  OF  GOD. 


Luke  xvi.  25. — "But  Abraham  said,  Son,  remember  that  thou  in 
thy  life-time  receivedst  thy  good  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil 
things,  but  now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented." 


At  first  sight,  it  appears  singular  that  the  unbelieving 
and  impenitent  Dives,  in  the  very  place  of  retribution, 
should  be  addressed  by  Abraham  "  the  father  of  believ- 
ers "  by  the  endearing  title  of  "  son."  This  word,  how- 
ever, as  employed  in  the  Scriptures,  has  more  than  one 
signification.  It  may  denote  only  the  benevolent  and 
kindly  relation  existing  between  the  Creator  and  the 
creature,  as  when  the  apostle  Paul  quotes  approvingly  the 
sentiment  of  the  pagan  poet :  "  We  are  his  offspring ; " 
or  as  when  St.  Luke,  tracing  up  the  genealogy  of  Christ 
to  the  beginning  of  creation,  calls  Adam  the  "son  of 
God."  And  it  may  also  mark  merely  the  relation  of  de- 
pendence and  inferiority,  in  some  particular,  existing  be- 
tween man  and  man.  In  such  connections  as  these,  the 
term  does  not  necessarily  imply  any  real  filial  feeling  on 
tlie  part  of  the  so-called  son,  or  teach  that  the  one  to 
whom  it  is  applied  is  in  affectionate  and  childlike  sympa- 
thy with  the  one  who  applies  it.  Joshua,  for  instance, 
addresses  the  guilty  Achan,  who  had  stolen  the  Babylon- 
ish garment  and  the  wedge  of  gold,  with  this  endearing 
title.     "  My  son,  give,  I  pray  thee,  glory  to  the  Lord  God 


THE  FATHEEHOOD   OF   GOD.  51 

of  Israel,  and  make  confession  unto  him ;  and  tell  me  now 
what  thou  hast  done ;  hide  it  not  from  me."  Achan  was 
not  a  son  in  feeling,  and  in  truth.  He  loved  neither  God, 
nor  Joshua  the  servant  of  God.  Hence,  notwithstanding 
this  employment  of  the  epithet,  "  Joshua  and  all  Israel 
with  him  took  Achan,  the  son  of  Zerah,  and  the  silver, 
and  the  garment,  and  the  wedge  of  gold,  and  his  sons, 
and  his  daughters,  and  his  oxen,  and  his  asses,  and  his 
sheep,  and  his  tent,  and  all  that  he  had,  and  stoned  him 
with  stones,  and  burned  them  with  fire."  In  like  man- 
ner, in  the  text,  Abraham  who  had  been  called  "  father " 
by  the  sinful  Dives — "  Father  Abraham,  have  mercy  upon 
me  " — addresses  the  guilty  creature  of  God  as  son :  "  Son, 
remember  that  thou  in  thy  life-time  receivedst  thy  good 
things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  things ;  but  now  he  is 
comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented." 

The  phraseology  employed  in  this  parable  of  our  Lord, 
together  with  such  a  use  of  the  term  "  son"  as  that  made 
by  Joshua  in  reference  to  Achan,  throws  light  upon  the 
doctrine  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God.  It  is  of  the  utmost 
consequence  that  we  make  no  mistake  respecting  this  im- 
portant truth.  In  what  sense,  then,  is  God  the  Father  of 
all  men ;  and  in  what  sense  is  he  not  the  Father  of  all 
men  ?  For  it  is  clear  that  God  does  not  sustain  the  same 
relation  in  every  respect  to  all  mankind  equally  and  alike. 
He  is  not  the  Father  of  Judas  Iscariot  and  Nero,  in  the 
identical  sense  in  which  he  is  of  the  apostle  John  and 
archbishop  Leighton.  He  is  not  the  Father  of  an  impeni- 
tent Messalina,  in  the  same  way  that  he  is  of  a  broken- 
hearted Magdalen.  For  in  the  former  case  there  is  no 
affectionate  filial  feeling ;  and  God,  by  his  prophet  Mala- 
chi,  says  to  any  and  every  man  who  would  use  the  en- 
dearing term  while  at  the  same  time  he  does  not  cherish 
the  appropriate  emotions:  "A  son  honoreth  his  father; 


52  THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

if  then  I  be  a  father,  where  is  mine  honor  ? "  If  the 
children  of  men,  if  any  class  of  creatures,  presume  to  de- 
nominate the  Eternal  One  their  Father,  certainly  they 
should  evince  their  sincerity  by  the  exercise  of  the  cor- 
respondent sentiment. 

I.  In  answering  the  first  question,  we  remark  that  God 
is  the  Father  of  all  men  indiscriminately  and  without  ex- 
ception, in  that  he  is  their  Creator.  The  author  of  any 
being  or  thing  is  naturally  denominated  its  father.  "  Have 
we  not  one  father  ?  Hath  not  one  God  created  us  ? " 
(Mai.  ii.  10).  "  Hath  the  rain  a  father  ?  And  who  hath 
begotten  the  drops  of  the  dew  ? "  (Job  xxxviii.  28).  When 
the  devil  "  speaketh  a  lie,  he  speaketh  of  his  own  " — of 
what  he  himself  has  invented  and  made — "  for  he  is  a 
liar,  and  the  father  of  it "  (John  viii.  44).  "  Every  good 
gift,  and  every  perfect  gift,  is  from  above,  and  cometh 
down  from  the  Father  of  lights  " — the  originating  author 
of  all  illumination,  physical  or  mental  (James  i.  IT).  "  To 
find  the  Maker  and  Father  of  the  universe,"  says  Plato, 
"  is  a  difficult  task  "  (Timaeus,  28).  In  this  sense,  God  is 
the  Father  of  all  men  indiscriminately.  The  hardened 
transgressor  who  is  to  be  sent  to  everlasting  perdition, 
and  the  penitent  believer  who  is  to  be  raised  to  heights 
of  glory,  here  stand  upon  the  same  plane.  They  are  of 
that  "  one  blood  "  of  which  God  made  all  mankind  ;  and 
there  is  no  difference  between  them.  They  are  alike  his 
"  offspring,"  and  he  is  alike  their  Father.  This  is  the  com- 
mon basis  upon  which  all  creatures  appear.  The  rich  and 
the  poor,  the  saint  and  the  sinner  here  meet  together,  and 
the  Lord  is  equally  the  Maker  and  providential  Father  of 
them  all. 

Such  a  common  relationship  as  this  to  the  Divine  provi- 
dence and  benevolence  justifies  the  use  of  the  word  "  fa- 
ther "  in  a  secondary  and  qualified  meaning.     God,  be- 


THE   FATHEEHOOD   OF   GOD.  53 

cause  he  created  the  human  soul,  is  profoundly  interested 
in  it.  He  does  not  and  cannot  hate  any  substance  that  he 
has  made.  That  rational  and  immortal  spirit  which  he 
originated  from  nothing,  and  endowed  with  attributes  re- 
sembling his  own,  is  very  dear  to  him  as  its  maker.  This 
is  evinced  by  the  care  which  he  takes  of  it.  He  maintains 
it  in  being  by  a  positive  act  of  omnipotence,  and  he  is 
continually  supplying  its  multiplied  wants.  Were  it  not 
for  his  perpetual  benevolence  and  oversight,  the  soul  and 
body  of  man  would  sink  into  non-existence,  or  be  over- 
whelmed by  suffering  and  pain.  Now,  such  an  interest  in 
the  constitutional  structure  of  his  creatures  on  the  part  of 
God,  justifies  his  calling  himself  "  the  Father  of  the  spir- 
its of  all  flesh."  And  every  human  being,  whatever  his 
moral  character,  is  an  object  of  benevolent  and  paternal 
concern  to  his  maker.  Even  when  he  is  transgressing 
the  Divine  law,  the  Divine  hand  that  made  him  holds  him 
in  existence,  crowns  his  life  with  blessings,  makes  the  sun 
to  shine  upon  him,  and  the  rain  to  fall  upon  his  broad 
acres,  as  if  he  were  a  child  in  the  high  and  tender  mean- 
ing of  the  word. 

n.  But  while  this  is  so,  and  should  awaken  sorrow  in 
every  man  for  his  rebellion  and  ingratitude,  it  is  neverthe- 
less a  fact  that  God  is  not  the  Father  of  all  men  indis- 
criminately in  the  highest  and  fullest  sense  of  the  term — 
their  Father  by  redeiivption  and  adojption. 

For  man  in  his  unrenewed  state  is  an  enemy  of  God. 
"  The  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God  "  (Rom.  viii.  7). 
We  are  "  by  nature  children  of  wrath  "  (Eph.  ii.  3).  This 
is  the  attitude  in  which,  by  reason  of  apostacy,  man  stands 
towards  his  kind  and  benevolent  Creator.  And  this  attitude 
is  incompatible  with  the  relation  of  father  and  child  in 
the  full,  tender,  and  affectionate  meaning  of  these  terms. 
With  such  an  inimical  feeling  in  the  heart,  it  is  impossible 


54  THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

to  cry,  "Abba,  Father! "  An  enemy  of  God  cannot  sincerely 
say,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven."  Hence  the  apostle 
describes  the  change  that  is  made  by  regeneration,  in  the 
following  language :  "  Ye  have  not  received  the  spirit  of 
bondage  again  to  fear  ;  but  ye  have  received  the  spirit  of 
adoption  whereby  we  cry  Father,  Father.  The  spirit  itself 
beareth  witness  with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  children  of 
God."  Previously  to  this,  the  parties  have  been  estranged 
from  each  other.  Sinful  man  fears  his  holy  Maker,  and 
his  holy  Maker  frowns  upon  sinful  man.  And  these  words 
are  to  be  taken  in  their  strict  meaning  upon  both  sides. 
It  is  a  false  view  that  represents  God  as  really  complacent 
towards  every  man  irrespective  of  his  character,  and  that 
it  is  only  the  creature's  groundless  fear  that  stands  in  the 
way  of  a  pleasant  and  happy  intercourse.  God  really  and 
truly  makes  a  difference  in  his  own  mind  and  feeling  be- 
tween the  man  that  obeys  and  confides  in  him,  and  the 
man  who  disobeys  and  distrusts  him.  He  is  positively 
displeased  with  the  transgressor  of  his  law,  and  the  recon- 
ciliation which  is  effected  by  the  atonement  of  Christ  is 
mutual.  God's  holiness  is  reconciled  to  man,  and  man  is 
reconciled  to  God.  When  a  penitent  sinner  trusts  in  the 
expiatory  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ,  then  the  triune  God 
becomes  his  Father  in  the  high  and  endearing  signification 
of  the  term,  and  the  man  becomes  a  child  of  God  in  the 
same  signification.  The  relation  which  is  now  established 
between  the  parties  is  not  merely  that  of  the  creature  to 
the  Creator — a  relation  that  does  not  necessarily  involve 
love  and  obedience — but  there  is  mutual  affection,  and 
delightful  intercourse  and  communion.  On  the  evening  of 
the  night  in  which  Chalmers  was  summoned  instantaneous- 
ly from  earth  to  heaven,  he  was  overheard  while  walking 
in  his  garden  uttering  in  earnest  and  affectionate  tones : 
"  My  Father,  O  my  heavenly  Father."    This  is  childhood 


THE  FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD.  55 

in  the  full  sense  ;  and  this  is  the  Divine  fatherhood  in 
its  blessed  truth  and  reality.  "  As  many  as  are  led  by  the 
spirit  of  God,  they  are  the  sons  of  God  "  (Rom.  viii.  14). 
"  I  have  often  found,"  says  Bunyan,  "  that  when  I  can 
say  but  this  word  Father^  it  doth  me  more  good  than  if  I 
called  him  by  any  other  Scripture  name.  It  is  worth  your 
noting,  that  to  call  God  by  this  title  was  rare  among  the 
saints  in  Old  Testament  times.  Seldom  do  you  find  him 
called  by  this  name — no,  sometimes  not  in  three  or  four 
books ;  but  now,  in  New  Testament  times,  he  is  called  by 
no  name  so  often  as  this,  both  by  the  Lord  Jesus  himself, 
and  by  the  apostles  afterwards.  Indeed,  the  Lord  Jesus 
was  he  that  first  made  the  name  common  among  the  saints, 
and  that  taught  them,  both  in  their  discourse,  their  prayers, 
and  their  writings,  so  much  to  use  it ;  it  being  more  pleas- 
ing to  God,  and  discovering  more  plainly  our  interest  in 
God,  than  any  other  expression.  For  by  this  one  name, 
we  are  made  to  understand  that  all  our  mercies  are  the 
offspring  of  God,  and  that  we  also  that  are  called  are  his 
children  by  adoption."  ' 

Having  thus  briefly  explained  the  senses  in  which  God 
is  and  is  not  the  Father  of  all  men,  we  turn  to  deduce 
some  practical  lessons  from  the  subject. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  we  see  how  it  is  possible  for  God 
to  be  both  a  Father  and  a  Judge  at  one  and  the  same 
time,  and  to  both  love  and  abhor  simultaneously.  The 
reader  of  the  Bible  observes  sometimes  with  perplexity, 
that  God  is  represented  as  looking  upon  man  with  two 
wholly  diverse  emotions.  The  Scriptures  seem  to  be  self- 
contradictory.  Sometimes  God  appears  as  yearning  over 
man  in  compassion  ;  and  sometimes  as  consuming  him  with 
the  blast  of  the  breath  of  his  nostrils.    Sometimes  his  utter- 

'  Bunyan  :  Come,  and  Welcome,  to  Jesus  Christ. 


56  THE  FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

ance  is :  "  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  for  why  will  ye  die  ?  As  I  live, 
saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked.  The  Lord  doth  not  afflict  willingly  nor  grieve 
the  children  of  men."  And  sometimes  the  declaration  is: 
"  Thou  hatest  all  workers  of  iniquity.  God  is  angry  with 
the  wicked  every  day.  Who  may  stand  in  thy  sight  when 
once  thou  art  angry  !  Who  knoweth  the  power  of  thine 
anger !  Even  according  to  thy  fear  so  is  thy  wrath.  The 
wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from  heaven  against  all  un- 
riofhteousness.  He  that  believeth  not  the  Son  shall  not 
see  life ;  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him."  How 
can  these  two  feelings  co-exist  in  one  and  the  same  Being, 
towards  one  and  the  same  person  ?  How  can  blessing  and 
cursing  proceed  out  of  the  same  mouth  ?  How  can  the 
same  fountain  send  forth  both  sweet  waters  and  bitter  ? 
Must  we  not  assume  that  one  or  the  other  of  these  dec- 
larations is  figurative,  and  in  this  way  harmonize  the 
Bible  with  itself  ? 

In  the  light  of  the  distinction  between  God  as  the  be- 
nevolent creator  and  preserver  of  all  men — their  provi- 
dential Father  in  the  general  sense,  and  God  as  the  re- 
deeming and  reconciled  Father  of  penitent  believers — their 
Father  in  the  special  sense,  we  find  the  clue  to  the  diffi- 
culty. The  kindly  and  benevolent  feeling  of  the  general 
paternity  may  co-exist  with  the  holy  displeasure  of  the 
righteous  Judge.  Even  an  imperfect  man  is  capable  of 
such  a  double  emotion.  A  kind  earthly  father,  or  a  gen- 
tle mother,  may  be  filled  with  most  intense  displeasure  at 
the  hardened  wickedness  and  profligacy  of  a  child,  and 
yet  at  the  same  time  would  gladly  lay  down  life  to  se- 
cure his  repentance  and  eternal  welfare.  By  reason  of 
the  father's  or  the  mother's  moral  excellence  and  resem- 
blance to  God,  there  can  be  nothing  but  abhorrence  of 
the  child's  sin ;  and  if  the  parent  should  be  informed  from 


THE   FATHERHOOD    OF   GOD.  57 

an  infallible  source  that  the  child  would  never  repent,  but 
would  continue  a  hardened  and  wilful  transgressor  through 
all  eternity,  he  would  not  only  acquiesce  in  the  judgment 
of  God  that  banished  him  from  heaven,  but  would  say 
with  all  the  holy,  "  Amen :  so  it  must  be,  so  it  should  be." 
For  sin  is  an  evil  and  a  terrible  thing,  and  even  the  dear- 
est earthly  ties  cannot  induce  a  holy  and  spiritual  mind  to 
approve  of  it,  or  desire  that  it  should  escape  the  merited 
punishment.  And  yet  that  parent  is  ready  for  any  self- 
sacrifice  that  would  deliver  the  rebellious  and  transgressing 
child  from  sin,  and  the  penalty  of  sin.  He  says  with 
David  over  the  dead  body  of  his  wicked  son :  "  O  my  son 
Absalom !  my  son,  my  son  Absalom !  would  God  I  had 
died  for  thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  ! "  And,  with 
David,  he  never  presumes  to  question  the  righteousness 
of  the  divine  procedure  in  the  punishment  of  a  hardened 
transgressor,  even  though  that  transgressor  be  bone  of  his 
bone  and  flesh  of  his  flesh. 

The  feeling  of  displeasure  with  which  God  regards  sin 
belongs  to  his  pure  and  perfect  nature,  and  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  exist  without  it.  It  is  no  more  optional 
with  him  to  abhor  iniquity,  than  it  is  to  be  omnipotent  or 
omnipresent.  God  must,  from  his  very  nature  and  idea, 
be  all-powerful,  and  in  every  place ;  and  for  the  same  rea- 
son he  must  react  against  evil  wherever  it  exists.  But  at 
the  same  time  he  has  no  malice  in  his  nature.  He  wishes 
well  to  every  creature  whom  he  has  made.  He  cherishes 
a  benevolent,  and  in  this  sense  a  paternal  feeling  towards 
every  rational  spirit.  Even  a  little  sparrow  does  not  fall 
dead  to  the  ground  without  his  taking  an  interest  in  it ; 
and  certainly,  then,  he  cannot  be  inspired  with  any  ma- 
licious or  unkind  emotion  toward  the  rational  and  immortal 
spirits  who  are  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows.  The 
Creator  can  feel  a  natural  and  necessary  abhorrence  of  the 


68  THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

sinner's  sin,  while  yet  he  feels  an  infinite  compassion  for 
the  sinner's  soul.  Says  Augustine  :  "  It  is  written,  '  God 
commendeth  his  love  towards  us,  in  that  while  we  were 
yet  sinners  Christ  died  for  us.'  He  loved  us,  therefore, 
even  when  in  the  exercise  of  enmity  against  him  we  weie 
working  iniquity.  And  yet  it  is  said  with  perfect  truth  : 
'  Thou  hatest,*  O  Lord,  all  workers  of  iniquity.'  Where- 
fore, in  a  wonderful  and  divine  manner  he  both  hated  and 
loved  us  at  the  same  time.  He  hated  us  as  being  differ- 
ent from  what  he  had  made  us ;  but  as  our  iniquity  had 
not  entirely  destroyed  his  work  within  us,  he  could  at 
the  same  time,  in  every  one  of  us,  hate  what  we  had  done, 
and  love  what  he  liad  created." 

God  loves  man  as  a  creature,  while  he  is  angry  with 
him  as  a  sinner.  He  takes  a  deep  and  tender  interest  in 
the  soul  which  he  has  made  and  keeps  in  existence,  while 
he  is  filled  with  a  deep  displeasure  at  the  sin  which  is  in 
that  soul.  Where  is  the  inconsistency  in  the  simultaneous 
existence  of  these  two  emotions?  Each  is  exercised  to- 
wards its  proper  object.  The  love  goes  out  towards  the 
soul  as  such ;  and  the  wrath  goes  out  towards  the  sin  as 
such.  The  sin  is  in  the  soul  and  cannot  be  separated  from 
it  except  by  the  substitution  of  holiness  in  its  place.  If, 
then,  any  man  retains  the  sinfulness  of  his  soul,  he  must 
not  expect  that  God's  general  benevolence  and  providen- 
tial paternity  will  nullify  his  holiness ;  that  his  interest  in 
the  workmanship  of  his  hands  will  overcome  his  regard 
for  truth  and  righteousness,  and  induce  him  to  let  sin  go 
unpunished.  The  providential  paternity  of  God,  and  the 
universal  sonship  of  man,  are  consistent  with  the  punish- 
ment of  incorrigible  and  hardened  depravit3\ 

2.  In  the  second  place,  we  learn  from  this  subject,  that 
it  is  our  duty  to  exercise  the  same  feelings  towards  the 
soul  of  man,  and  the  sin  of  man,  that  God  does. 


THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD.  59 

We  are  commanded  to  imitate  God  in  his  moral  perfec- 
tions. "  Be  ye  holy  for  I  am  holy.  Be  ye  perfect  as  your 
Father  in  heaven  is  perfect."  We  cannot  obey  these  in- 
junctions without  sympathizing  with  God  in  his  benevolent 
love  for  -the  human  soul,  and  his  holy  disapprobation  of 
human  sinfulness.  And  this  sympathy  should  be  seen  first 
in  reference  to  ourselves,  and  then  in  regard  to  others. 
We  have  no  right  to  treat  other  souls  difiFerently  from  our 
own.  Religion  must  begin  at  home,  and  hence  while  we 
cherish  a  rational  love  for  our  own  souls,  we  should  at  the 
same  time  sternly  condemn  and  abhor  our  own  personal 
sin.  A  man  should  both  love  and  hate  himself.  While 
he  says :  "  Skin  for  skin,  yea,  all  that  I  have  I  will  give  for 
my  life,"  he  should  also  say,  "  I  abhor  myself."  While  he 
is  deeply  anxious  for  his  own  well-being  here  and  here- 
after, he  should  sympathize  with  his  holy  Maker  in  abom- 
inating the  iniquity  of  his  own  heart.  These  two  feel- 
ings are  not  incompatible.  Nay,  we  never  begin  to  love 
ourselves  aright,  until  we  begin  to  condemn  and  hate  our 
sins. 

And,  certainly,  if  we  deal  in  this  manner  with  our  own 
souls  and  our  own  sins,  we  are  entitled  to  deal  in  this 
manner  with  the  souls  and  sins  of  others.  As  we  mingle 
in  society  and  come  in  contact  with  our  fellow-creatures 
and  our  fellow-sinners,  we  ought  to  feel  the  same  desire 
that  God  does  for  their  soul's  welfare,  and  the  same  ab- 
horrence which  he  feels  for  their  soul's  sin.  No  malice,  no 
envy,  no  ill-will,  towards  any  creature  of  God  should  ever 
rise  within  us.  We  ought  to  wish  well  to  the  whole  ra- 
tional universe.  Such  was  the  angelic  song :  "  Peace  on 
earth,  and  good  will  to  men."  As  creatures  simply,  and 
not  taking  their  sinfulness  into  account,  we  should  love  all 
men  indiscriminately,  and  desire  their  happiness  in  time 
and  eternity.     But  when  we  leave  out  this  characteristic, 


60  THE   FATHERHOOD   OF  GOD. 

and  contemplate  any  man  as  an  antagonist  of  God,  and  a 
bitter  enemy  of  that  holy  and  perfect  Being,  we  should  be 
filled  with  a  righteous  displeasure,  and  desire  his  punish- 
ment.    We  should  say  with  David  :  "  Do  not  I  hate  them, 

0  Lord,  that  hate  thee  ?  I  hate  them  with  perfect  hatred : 

1  count  them  mine  enemies  "  (Ps.  cxxxix.  21,  22). 

And  if  we  have  done  all  this  in  reference  to  ourselves 
personally,  mankind  will  not  complain  if  we  subject  them 
to  the  same  tests,  and  treat  them  in  the  same  manner. 
Nay,  more,  we  shall  do  them  good  by  our  impartiality  and 
sincerity.  If  we  really  love  their  souls,  they  will  let  us 
hate  their  sins.  If  we  labor  and  pray,  that  as  creatures  of 
God,  and  capable  of  eternal  purity  and  joy,  they  do  not  go 
down  to  perdition,  they  will  not  object  to  the  severest 
denunciation  of  their  iniquity. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  Church  to  sympathize  with  God 
in  all  his  feelings  towards  a  world  lying  in  wickedness. 
Christians  must  not  be  inspired  with  any  mere  sentimental- 
ism  in  reference  to  the  sins  and  sorrows  of  man,  for  God 
is  not.  With  him  they  must  look  with  a  clear,  impartial 
eye,  and  remember  that  wherever  there  is  suffering  in  the 
universe  of  God,  there  is  sin.  These  sorrows  of  humanity 
are  the  consequence  of  the  guilt  of  humanity,  and  when 
we  look  upon  them,  either  in  our  own  case  or  that  of 
others,  we  are  to  say  :  "  Just  and  righteous  art  thou,  O 
God,  in  all  this  punitive  infliction.  Man  has  transgressed, 
and  therefore  he  suffers.  Death  hath  passed  upon  all 
men,  because  all  have  sinned."  And  on  the  other  hand, 
we  are  to  sympathize  with  God  in  his  tender  concern  for 
the  soul,  as  distinguished  from  the  sin.  We  are  to  see  in 
every  fellow-man  a  spark  of  the  Divine  intelligence ;  a 
partaker,  as  St.  Peter  says,  of  a  divine  nature  ;  an  immor- 
tal spirit  similar  to  the  Eternal  Spirit,  and  destined  to  live 
forever.   We  are  to  remember  that  such  an  essence  as  this 


THE  FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD.  61 

is  worth  saving ;  that  it  is  an  infinite  loss  when  it  goes  to 
perdition,  and  that  no  sacrifice  is  too  great  to  save  it. 
God,  who  looks  into  the  nature  of  things,  saw  its  value, 
and  shrank  not  from  the  most  costly  sacrifice.  He  spared 
not  his  own  Son,  but  gave  him  up  in  order  that  the  soul, 
the  rational  deathless  nature  of  man,  might  be  saved. 

What  an  increase  of  power  would  be  imparted  to  the 
Church,  if  every  member  of  it  M^ere  filled  with  these  two 
emotions,  pure  and  simple,  which  dwell  in  the  bosom  of 
God.  There  would  be  no  self-indulgence  in  sin,  and  no 
weak  and  fond  indulgence  of  sin  in  others.  The  eye 
would  be  single,  solemn,  piercing,  holy.  A  healthy  con- 
science would  brace  up  and  strengthen  the  entire  man, 
and  he  would  go  forth  into  the  world,  a  terror  to  evil- 
doers, and  a  praise  to  them  who  do  well.  And  at  the 
same  time,  this  Christian  would  be  a  very  tender-hearted 
creature.  He  would  feel  the  worth  of  every  soul  in  itself, 
abstracted  from  the  sin  that  is  in  it.  His  heart  would 
yearn  towards  it,  as  an  emanation  from  God,  and  an  im- 
mortal thing  for  which  Christ  died.  His  works  would 
follow  his  faith,  and  he  would  labor  and  pray  for  its  wel- 
fare, with  a  solemnity,  a  persistence,  and  a  holy  earnest- 
ness, that  would  certainly  receive  the  Divine  approbation 
and  blessing. 

3.  In  the  third  place,  this  subject  furnishes  a  test  of 
a  renewed  and  spiritual  mind. 

A  worldly  mind  is  selfish  in  its  love,  and  selfish  in  its 
hatred.  It  is  displeased  with  sin  when  it  interferes  with 
its  own  enjoyment,  and  it  is  pleased  with  righteousness 
when  it  promotes  its  own  happiness.  If  the  worldling 
loses  something  in  his  own  mind,  body,  or  estate,  by  the 
tlieft  or  the  lie  of  a  transgressor,  he  inveighs  bitterly 
against  these  particular  sins.  And  if  he  is  the  gainer 
in  his  worldly  circumstances  by  the  industry,  honesty,  or 


62  THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

godliness  of  a  Christian  man,  he  is  profuse  in  his  praise  of 
these  virtues  and  graces.  But  he  does  not  love  holiness 
for  its  own  intrinsic  excellence,  neither  does  he  hate  sin 
because  of  its  abstract  odiousness.  If  the  sins  of  his  fel- 
low-men would  promote  his  selfish  purposes,  he  would  en- 
courage them,  and  be  highly  displeased  at  any  attempt  to 
check  or  remove  them.  His  character  and  feelings  are 
exactly  the  reverse  of  those  of  God.  .  He  has  no  love  for 
the  soul  of  his  fellow-man  as  the  workmanship  of  the 
Creator,  and  no  abhorrence  of  his  sin  as  an  evil  thing  in 
itself  and  under  all  circumstances.  He  cares  not  what 
becomes  of  the  immortal  part  of  his  fellow-creature.  He 
never  toils  or  prays  for  its  welfare.  And  his  feelings 
towards  the  sins  of  a  fellow-creature  depend  entirely  upon 
how  his  interests  are  affected  by  them.  Terrible  as  is  the 
fact,  it  is  nevertheless  a  fact,  that  the  selfishness  of  the 
natural  heart  hesitates  not  to  sacrifice  the  very  soul,  the 
very  being  itself,  of  a  fellow-creature,  in  order  to  attain  its 
o\vn  purposes.  Alexander  and  Napoleon,  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  their  plans,  used  the  bodies  and  minds  of  millions 
of  their  fellow-men  as  the  potter  uses  the  passive  clay. 
And  how  many  there  are,  in  narrower  circles  than  those 
of  the  conqueror  and  the  monarch,  who  do  the  same 
thing,  and  are  madly  rushing  to  the  same  condemna- 
tion. 

But  not  so  with  the  true  child  of  God.  He  loves  the 
Boul,  and  hates  the  sin.  His  feeling  in  each  instance  is 
pure,  spiritual,  disinterested.  He  loves  his  own  soul  and 
abhors  his  own  sin.  And  he  does  by  others  as  he  does  by 
himself.  He  is  not  displeased  with  the  transgressions  of 
men  merely  because  they  injure  his  private  interests,  lie 
would  gladly  suffer  that  loss,  if  thereby  he  could  secure 
their  repentance  and  reformation.  He  abhors  their  iniquity 
for  its  own  intrinsic  quality,  as  God  abhors  it.     His  hatred 


THE   FATHERHOOD   OF  GOD.  63 

of  moral  evil  is  spiritual,  disinterested,  liolj,  like  that  of 
his  Father  in  heaven,  with  whom  he  sympathizes,  and 
for  whose  honor  he  is  jealous.  And  his  love  for  the  wel- 
fare of  every  man  indiscriminately  partakes  of  the  same 
spirituality.  He  is  ready  to  toil,  give  of  his  substance, 
and  pray  for  the  salvation  of  fellow-creatures  whom  he 
never- saw,  and  never  will  see,  until  he  stands  with  them 
at  the  judgment  seat.  He  needs  no  introduction  in  order 
to  take  an  interest  in  a  lost  man.  The  heathen  in  the 
heart  of  China  or  of  Africa  lie  with  as  much  weight  upon 
his  heart  and  conscience,  as  do  the  impenitent  in  his  ovni 
neighborhood.  Worldly  men  sometimes  wonder,  and  some- 
times scofP,  at  the  interest  which  the  Church  of  God  is 
taking  in  the  millions  of  paganism  who  are  thousands  of 
miles  away  from  them.  They  tell  us  that  the  heathen  are 
at  our  own  doors,  and  regard  this  great  endeavor  to  obey 
the  last  command  of  Christ  to  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature,  as  quixotic  and  visionary.  But  they  feel  no 
Divine  love  for  man  as  the  image  of  God ;  as  a  creature 
who  came  from  the  same  plastic  hand  that  they  came  from ; 
as  an  immortal  spirit  possessing  the  same  properties  and 
qualities  that  they  are  possessed  of ;  and  above  all,  as  the 
object  of  the  same  Divine  pity  in  the  blood  of  Christ  by 
which  they  themselves  must  be  saved,  if  saved  at  all. 
They  have  no  fellow-feeling  with  their  race  ;  and  what  is 
yet  more,  they  have  no  sympathy  with  God  the  Redeemer 
of  man. 

It  is  obvious  that  this  is  a  very  searching  and  a  very 
accurate  test  of  Christian  character.  It  is  possible  to 
cherish  a  religiousness  that  is  so  selfish,  so  destitute  of 
warm  and  disinterested  love  for  human  welfare,  as  to  de- 
serve condemnation.  This  is  the  weak  side,  this  is  the 
great  defect,  in  some  very  interesting  phases  of  religious 
character.    Look  at  the  mediaeval  monk  and  his  severe  spir- 


64  THE  FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

itiial  experiences.  He  is  constantly  occupied  with  the  salva- 
tion of  his  soul.  He  thinks  of  nothing  else,  and  lives  for 
nothing  else.  And  yet  in  finding  his  life  he  loses  it.  All 
these  experiences  are  a  refined  form  of  self-love.  He  has 
merely  transferred  his  self-seeking  from  time  to  eternity. 
What  he  needs  is,  to  love  others  as  he  loves  himself ;  to  break 
out  from  his  seclusion  and  preach  the  gospel  to  his  fellow- 
men.  Having  freely  received,  he  should  freely  give.  Those 
are  truthful  and  discriminating  remarks  which  the  historian 
of  Latin  Christianity  makes  respecting  the  famous  treatise 
on  the  "  Imitation  of  Christ,"  in  which  this  species  of  piety 
finds  its  finest  and  most  winning  delineation.  "  Its  sole, 
single,  exclusive  object,"  he  says,  "  is  the  purification,  the 
elevation  of  the  individual  soul,  of  the  man  absolutely 
isolated  from  his  kind,  of  the  man  dwelling  alone  in  soli- 
tude in  the  hermitage  of  his  own  thoughts  ;  with  no  fears 
or  hopes,  no  sympathies  of  our  common  nature :  he  has  ab- 
solutely withdrawn  and  secluded  himself  not  only  from 
the  cares,  the  sins,  the  trials,  but  from  the  duties,  the  con- 
nections, the  moral  and  religious  fate  of  the  world.  Never 
was  misnomer  so  glaring,  if  justly  considered,  as  the  title 
of  the  book,  the  '  Imitation  of  Christ.'  That  which 
distinguishes  Christ,  that  which  distinguishes  Christ's 
apostles,  that  which  distinguishes  Christ's  religion — the 
love  of  man — is  entirely  and  absolutely  left  out.  Had 
this  been  the  whole  of  Christianity,  our  Lord  himself  (with 
reverence  be  it  said)  had  lived  like  an  Essene,  working  out 
or  displaying  his  own  sinless  perfection  by  the  Dead  Sea : 
neither  on  the  mount,  nor  in  the  temple,  nor  even  on  the 
cross.  The  apostles  had  dwelt  entirely  on  the  internal 
emotions  of  their  own  souls,  each  by  himself ;  St.  Peter 
still  by  the  lake  Gennessaret,  St.  Paul  in  the  desert  of 
Arabia,  St.  John  in  Patmos.  Christianity  had  been  with- 
out any  exquisite  precept  for  the  purity,  the  happiness  of 


THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD.  65 

social  or  domestic  life  ;  without  self-sacrifice  for  the  good 
of  others  ;  without  the  higher  Christian  patriotism,  devo- 
tion on  evangelic  principles  to  the  public  weal ;  without 
even  the  devotion  of  the  missionary  for  the  dissemination 
of  gospel  truth  ;  without  the  humbler  and  gentler  daily 
self-sacrifice  for  relatives,  for  the  wife,  the  parent,  the 
child.  Christianity  had  never  soared  to  be  the  civilizer  of 
the  world.  '  Let  the  world  perish,  so  the  single  soul  can 
escape  on  its  solitary  plank  from  the  general  wreck,'  such 
had  been  its  final  axiom."  ' 

4.  In  the  fourth  place,  we  learn  from  this  subject,  how 
sad  must  be  the  Jinal  condition  of  those  who  never  be- 
come the  "dear  children"  of  God,  and  to  whom  God  is 
not  a  Father  in  the  high  and  endearing  sense  of  these 
terms. 

It  is  a  frequent  remark,  that  a  blessing  or  a  privilege 
when  abused  or  perverted  becomes  the  greatest  of  curses. 
And  so  it  is  in  this  instance.  If  we  pervert  and  abuse  the 
relation  which  as  creatures  we  sustain  to  our  Creator — if 
we  live  upon  his  bounty,  and  yet  rebel  against  his  authority 
— the  fact  that  we  are  his  offspring  will  only  increase  our 
condemnation.  This  paternal  interest  which  God  takes  in 
us  as  his  workmanship — this  care,  this  protection,  this 
providence  which  guards  and  guides  us  every  day — if  it 
be  accompanied  with  no  suitable  feeling  and  action  upon 
our  part,  will  only  result  in  a  severer  punishment.  Unless 
by  faith  and  repentance  we  come  to  be  more  than  the  crea- 
tures of  God  ;  unless  we  become  children  and  he  becomes 
a  Father  in  the  full  and  blessed  sense,  our  God  and  Father 
in  Christ ;  there  is  no  peace  or  joy  possible  for  us.  It  will 
be  no  source  of  comfort  to  remember  that  he  is  the  provi- 
dential Father  of  all  spirits  by  creation.    The  devils  them- 

'Milman  :  Latin  Christianity,  Book  XTV.,  Chap,  iii 


66  THE   FATHERHOOD   OF   GOD. 

selves  share  in  this  general  fatherhood  and  benevolence 
of  the  Supreme  Being.  There  is  no  malice  in  the  Eternal 
Mind  toward  the  arch-fiend  himself.  That  fallen  and 
wicked  spirit  is  as  dependent  as  he  ever  was  upon  the 
sustaining  providence  of  the  Most  High.  He  is  as  much 
as  ever  the  offspring  of  the  Almighty.  In  this  sense,  he 
is  still  a  son  of  the  Highest.  But  this  only  renders  him 
the  more  intensely  guilty  and  unhappy.  He  has  abused, 
and  he  is  still  and  ever  abusing  the  Divine  benevolence, 
the  Divine  beneficence,  the  Divine  providence,  the  Divine 
paternity.  He  has  no  filial  feeling  towards  the  Universal 
Parent,  and  therefore  God  is  not  his  God  and  Father.  He 
never  says :  "  Our  Father,  hallowed  be  thy  name.  Thy 
kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done."  And  so  it  is  and 
must  be  in  every  instance  of  this  kind.  It  is  precisely  so 
with  the  impenitent,  the  unfilial,  the  alienated  man.  Un- 
less the  prodigal  returns  to  his  original  relations,  the  fact 
that  by  creation  God  is  his  Father  M'ill  render  his  con- 
demnation more  just  and  righteous,  and  his  condition 
more  wretched.  It  will  be  embittered  by  the  reflection, 
that  from  first  to  last  God  was  good  and  kind  to  him  ; 
that  he  never  in  the  least  injured  the  dependent  creature 
whom  he  called  into  being ;  that  he  never  felt  the  least  ill- 
will  towards  him,  but  on  the  contrary  cared  for  him,  and 
did  him  good  all  the  days  of  his  life — in  short,  that  he 
exercised  towards  him  all  the  paternal  feeling  that  was 
possible  in  the  case.  But  there  is  one  phase  of  a  father's 
feeling  which  it  is  impossible  for  God  to  exhibit  in  such 
an  instance  as  this.  The  creature  has  become  his  enemy. 
He  opposes  his  will  to  that  of  God ;  his  carnal  mind  is 
not  subject  to  the  law  of  God.  The  tender  and  affection- 
ate feeling  of  a  father  cannot  be  manifested  under  such 
circumstances.  All  that  God  can  do  in  this  case  is  to  con- 
tinue to  exhibit  his  general  benevolence  and  providential 


THE  FATHEEHOOD   OF   GOD.  67 

fatherhood,  with  the  desire  that  it  may  soften  the  hard 
heart,  and  that  "  the  goodness  of  God  may  lead  to  repent- 
ance." But  if  it  all  fails,  if  the  creature  to  the  end  abuses 
this  kindness  and  persists  in  his  enmity  and  hatred,  then 
the  benevolent  Creator  must  assume  his  function  of  Judge, 
and  when  the  final  day  arrives  must  sentence  this  wicked 
and  impenitent  offspring  of  his  to  everlasting  perdition,  as 
he  has  sentenced  the  rebellious  angels  before  him. 

Lay,  then,  this  truth  to  heart.  God  cannot  be  a  Father 
to  any  man  who  cannot  from  the  fulness  of  his  heart  cry 
unto  him,  "  My  Father."  His  entreaty  by  his  prophet  is : 
"  Wilt  thou  not  from  this  time  cry  unto  me.  My  Father, 
be  thou  the  guide  of  my  youth."  This  entreaty,  though 
primarily  addressed  to  the  young,  is  intended  for  all.  God 
desires  to  be  more  than  our  Creator.  He  is  not  content 
with  bestowing  these  temporal  and  providential  blessings 
with  which  he  is  crowning  our  life.  He  desires  to  impart 
the  richer  gifts  of  his  grace.  He  would  give  not  merely 
his  gifts,  but  Himself  to  his  creatures.  But  the  creature 
repulses  him.  How  many  a  man  is  at  this  very  moment 
saying  to  his  Maker :  "  Give  me  wealth,  give  me  health, 
give  me  worldly  ease  and  pleasure,  give  me  intellectual 
power  and  fame,  give  me  political  influence  and  sway  in 
the  land,  but  do  not  give  me  Thyself."  Is  such  a  heart 
as  this  fitted  for  the  world  of  light  and  love  ?  Is  this 
the  utterance  of  a  child  ?  Can  God  be  a  dear  Father  to 
such  an  one?  It  is  impossible  from  the  nature  of  the 
case. 

Lay,  not,  then  the  flattering  unction  to  your  soul,  that 
the  universal  fatherhood  of  God  is  sufficient  to  secure 
your  eternal  welfare.  That  is  a  great  and  glorious  truth, 
but  if  you  never  get  beyond  it  in  your  religious  experience, 
to  the  doctrine  of  the  special  and  endearing  fatherhood 
of  God  in  Christ,  it  will  minister  to  yom*  condemnation 


68  THE  FATHERHOOD  OF  GOD. 

and  everlasting  woe.  Seek,  then,  to  enter  into  a  truly 
filial  relation  with  your  Maker.  Rest  not  until  you  have 
made  your  peace  with  God's  holiness  and  justice  by  his 
blood  of  atonement,  and  then  you  will  "know  with  all 
saints  the  height  and  depth "  of  his  fatherly  love  in 
Christ,  "  which  passeth  knowledge." 


SEKMON  V. 

THE  FUTURE  VISION  OP  GOD. 


2  Corinthians,  iv.  18. — "The  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." 


There  is  a  difference  between  things  that  are  not  seen, 
and  things  that  are  invisible.  An  object  may  not  be  seen  at 
this  particular  moment,  or  under  the  present  circumstances, 
and  yet  it  may  come  into  sight  hereafter,  or  under  a  dif- 
ferent set  of  surroundings.  But  an  object  that  is  strictly 
invisible  cannot  be  seen  either  now  or  hereafter ;  from  the 
present  point  of  view,  or  from  any  conceivable  position 
whatsoever.  There  are  stars  in  the  heavens  that  have 
never  yet  been  observed  by  any  human  eye,  but  which  can 
be  brought  into  view  by  a  higher  power  of  the  telescope. 
They  are  unseen,  but  they  do  not  belong  to  the  class  of 
absolute  invisibilities.  But  the  spiritual  essence  of  God, 
and  the  immaterial  substance  of  the  human  soul,  are  strictly 
invisible.  IsTot  only  are  they  not  seen  as  yet,  but  they 
never  will  be  seen  by  any  vision  whatsoever. 

This  distinction  is  marked  by  the  apostle  Paul,  and  indi- 
cated by  the  difference  in  the  phraseology  which  he  employs. 
In  the  text,  he  uses  the  same  form  of  words  (/z^  ^Xeirofieva) 
with  that  employed  in  Hebrews  xi.  1,  where  it  is  affirmed 
that  faith  is  "  the  evidence  [conviction]  of  things  not  seen  " 
{ov  ^€7ro/ji€V(i}v).     In  this  latter  instance  the  writer  refers 


70  THE  FUTURE  VISION   OF   GOD. 

to  objects  that  are  not  visible  now,  but  which  will  be  visible 
hereafter.  "  Faith,"  he  says,  "  is  the  conviction  of  things 
not  seen  "  in  the  present,  but  to  be  seen  in  the  future.  lie 
cites  in  illustration  the  case  of  I^oah.  The  flood  had  not 
yet  come  and  was  a  "  thing  not  seen,"  when  the  patriarch 
exercised  the  act  of  faith  ;  but  it  afterward  came,  and  was 
both  visible  and  tangible.  But  when  St.  Paul,  in  Rom.  i. 
20,  declares  that  "  the  invisible  things  of  God,  from  the 
creation  of  the  M'orld,  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood 
by  the  things  that  are  made,  even  his  eternal  power  and 
godhead,"  he  emploj^s  a  different  word  {aopara)  which 
denotes  that  these  things  are  intrinsically  invisible.  The 
eternal  power  and  godhead — the  Divine  essence  itself,  with 
its  inherent  attributes — cannot  be  seen  with  the  bodily 
eye.  It  can  only  be  "  understood,"  that  is,  illustrated  and 
interpreted,  "  by  the  things  that  are  made." 

The  text,  then,  leads  us  to  contemplate  those  objects 
which  we  do  not  see  now,  but  whicli  we  shall  see  here- 
after. It  does  not  call  us  to  a  metaphysical  investigation 
of  those  things  which  are  absolutely  beyond  the  reach  of 
finite  cognition,  because  they  are  intrinsically  invisible  and 
incomprehensible  ;  but  it  invites  us  to  examine  those  real- 
ities which  we  do  not  now  see,  or  which  at  least  we  see 
through  a  glass  darkly,  but  which  we  shall  hereafter  see, 
and  see  face  to  face. 

The  first  and  greatest  of  these  realities  is  God.  After 
what  we  have  remarked  concerning  the  Divine  essence, 
it  will  of  course  be  understood  that  we  do  not  mean  to 
teach  that  we  shall  comprehend  the  mystery  of  the  God- 
liead  in  the  future  life.  "  No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any 
time."  No  finite  intelligence  whatever,  be  it  man  or 
angel,  can  penetrate  the  inscrutable  abyss  of  the  Divine 
nature.  This  is  an  absolute  invisibility,  and  neither  in 
this  world  nor  the  next  will  the  created  mind  comprehend 


THE   FUTURE   VISION   OF   GOD.  71 

it.  But  there  is  a  manifestation  of  God,  whereby  he  puts 
himself  into  relation  and  communication  with  his  creatures, 
so  that  they  may  know  him  sufficiently  to  glorify  and  en- 
joy him.  The  apostle  John  alludes  to  this,  when,  after 
saying  that  no  man  hath  seen  the  invisible  and  unsearch- 
able God  at  any  time,  he  adds,  "  The  only  begotten  God 
who  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  declared  him." 
In  the  incarnation  of  the  second  trinitarian  Person,  the 
deity  steps  out,  as  it  were,  from  behind  the  thick  clouds 
and  darkness  that  veil  him  from  the  human  intelligence, 
and  shows  himself.  Think  of  the  difference  that  has  been 
made  in  man's  knowledge  of  God,  by  the  Word's  becoming 
flesh  and  dwelling  among  us.  Compare  the  view  of  God 
which  is  enjoyed  by  all  who  have  the  four  Gospels  in  their 
hands,  with  that  which  was  granted  to  the  wisest  and  most 
reflecting  of  the  heathen.  The  little  child  in  the  Sabbath- 
school  knows  more  of  the  being  and  attributes,  and  par- 
ticularly of  the  purposes  of  the  Most  High,  than  Plato 
himself.  For  Christ,  the  God-Man,  stands  before  his  in- 
fantile vision  "  the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the 
exact  image  of  his  person ; "  so  that  the  deity  possesses 
for  this  little  child's  mind  in  a  Christian  land  a  reality, 
a  distinctness,  an  excellence,  and  a  beauty,  that  never  was 
revealed  to  the  most  serious,  the  most  capacious,  and  the 
most  highly  disciplined  intelligence  of  pagan  antiquity. 
In  the  incarnate  Word,  that  "  unknown  God  "  whom  Paul 
alluded  to  on  Mars  hill,  whom  the  philosophers  of  Athens 
were  ignorantly  worshipping,  and  after  whom  they  were 
blindly  groping  if  haply  they  might  find  him,  assumes  a 
corporeal  human  presence.  He  breaks  through  the  sky, 
he  bursts  the  dim  ether,  and  stands  out  like  the  sun  on  the 
edge  of  the  horizon  a  sublime  and  glorious  Form.  We 
see  his  face,  alas !  marred  more  than  any  man ;  we  hear 
his  voice.   He  is  Immanuel — God  with  us.    I  tell  you  that 


72  THE   FUTURE  VISION   OF  GOD. 

many  sages  and  philosophers,  many  kings  and  prophets, 
have  desired  to  see  those  things  which  the  little  child  now 
sees,  and  have  not  seen  them ;  to  hear  those  things  which 
the  little  child  now  hears,  and  have  not  heard  them. 

But  the  future  manifestation  of  God  that  is  to  be  made 
in  heaven  is  yet  more  impressive  and  refulgent  than  this. 
The  tabernacling  of  God  in  the  flesh,  eighteen  centuries 
ago,  was  only  preparatory  to  the  great  final  manifestation 
of  himself  to  his  Church  in  the  world  of  light ;  and  glo- 
rious as  was  the  former,  yet  far  more  glorious  will  be  the 
latter.  "  For  even  that  which  was  made  glorious  had  no 
glory  in  this  respect,  by  reason  of  the  glory  that  excelleth. 
For  if  that  which  is  done  away  was  glorious,  much  more 
that  which  remaineth  is  glorious "  (2  Cor.  iii.  10,  11). 
Christ  upon  earth  in  his  state  of  humiliation  was  indeed 
glorious ;  but  Christ  upon  the  mediatorial  throne,  still 
clothed  in  human  nature  but  in  his  estate  of  exaltation, 
is  far  more  glorious. 

It  is  not  for  us  to  say  in  what  particulars  God  will  be 
manifested  to  the  blessed  on  high,  whereby  his  presence 
will  be  far  more  impressive  than  it  was  in  the  theophanies 
of  the  Old  Dispensation,  or  even  in  the  earthly  incarnation 
of  the  New.  But  we  know  the  fact  from  the  teaching  of 
Scripture.  The  appearance  of  Jehovah  to  Abraham, 
when  he  was  in  Mesopotamia,  before  he  dwelt  in  Charran ; 
to  Moses  in  the  burning  bush,  and  on  Mount  Sinai ;  to  the 
child  Samuel  in  the  dim  recesses  of  the  temple ;  to  Isaiah 
when  he  saw  the  Lord  sitting  upon  a  throne  high  and 
lifted  up,  and  his  train  filled  the  temple ;  and  last  of  all, 
the  actual  residence  of  this  second  Person  of  the  Trinity 
on  the  plains  of  Palestine,  and  among  the  hills  of  Judea — 
all  these  graduated  and  growing  revelations  of  the  deity 
fall  short  of  that  which  shall  be  in  the  future  world.  For 
the  future  world  is  the  final  one.     All  the  preparatory 


THE  FUTURE  VISION   OF  GOD.  73 

steps  and  stages  in  the  religious  education  of  the  Church ; 
all  the  gradual  and  growing  revelations  that  have  heen 
employed  to  bring  man  into  nearer  and  nearer  communi- 
cation with  the  unseen  God  ;  will  have  accomplished  their 
purpose.  The  last  wall  of  separation  between  the  finite 
and  the  infinite  Spirit  will  have  been  broken  down  ;  man 
and  God  will  meet  face  to  face,  and  know  even  as  they 
are  known.  Hence  the  last  manifestation  must  be  the 
crowning  one.  In  heaven,  God  assumes  a  form  more 
glorious  and  distinct  than  he  has  before  assumed  upon 
earth.  He  puts  himself  into  a  relation  to  human  creatures 
that  will  influence  them,  and  affect  them,  more  profoundly 
and  vividly  than  ever  before. 

There  is  one  proof  of  this  to  which  we  invite  attention. 
It  is  the  fact  that  the  heavenly  world  is  a  world  of  perfect 
worship ;  and  perfect  worship  supposes  a  resplendent  mani- 
festation and  clear  vision  of  the  Object  of  worship. 

We  see  the  operation  of  this  principle  in  the  idolatries 
of  the  world.  The  pagan  requires  some  visible  form  be- 
fore which  he  can  bow  down,  and  to  which  he  can  address 
liis  prayers.  His  error  and  his  sin  does  not  lie  in  the 
fact  that  he  craves  an  object  to  worship,  but  in  the  fact 
that  he  selects  a  wrong  object.  No  creature  can  offer 
prayer  or  praise  to  a  nonentity ;  and  the  idolater  is  fol- 
lowing a  legitimate  and  constitutional  conviction  of  the 
human  mind,  when  he  seeks  some  being,  real  or  imagi- 
nary, toward  whom  his  religious  aspirations  may  go  out, 
and  upon  whom  they  may  terminate.  He  cannot  pray 
into  the  air.  His  words  need  to  strike  upon  some  object, 
and  rebound  to  him  in  an  answer  All  this  is  natural 
and  proper.  But  his  error  consists  in  substituting  an 
image  of  gold  and  silver,  or  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  or 
the  forces  of  nature,  for  the  Invisible  Spirit.  Reject- 
ing that  idea  of  an  "  eternal  poww  ^nd  Godhead  "  which 
4 


74  THE   FUTURE  VISION   OF  GOD. 

St.  Paul  asserts  to  be  innate  in  every  man,  and  to  be 
"  clearly  seen  and  understood  by  the  things  that  are 
made,"  the  idolater  betakes  himself  to  the  notions  of  his 
fancy,  which  are  more  in  accordance  with  his  vile  affec- 
tions. Leaving  his  reason,  he  takes  lessons  in  theology 
from  his  imagination.  "  Becoming  vain  in  their  imagina- 
tions, their  foolish  heart  was  darkened ;  professing  them- 
selves to  be  wise,  they  became  fools,  and  changed  the 
glory  of  the  incorruptible  God  into  an  image  made  like  to 
corruptible  man,  and  to  birds,  and  four-footed  beasts,  and 
creeping  things."  Not,  then,  in  seeking  an  object  of  wor- 
ship, but  in  substituting  a  false  for  the  true  one,  does  the 
sin  and  folly  of  the  idolater  consist.  There  must  be  an 
object,  in  order  to  any  worship. 

We  find  this  same  principle  operating  in  the  minds  of 
believers  themselves.  What  a  craving  there  oftentimes  is 
in  the  heart  of  a  child  of  God,  to  behold  the  Being  whom 
he  has  worshipped  so  long,  but  whom  he  has  never  seen. 
It  is  true  that  he  enjoys  many  aids  to  his  faith  and  wor- 
ship. The  history  of  all  these  Divine  manifestations  to 
the  patriarchs,  and  prophets,  and  apostles,  is  before  him, 
and  he  reads  it  often  and  again.  Still  more,  the  story  of 
the  incarnation,  and  of  the  residence  of  God  the  Son  here 
upon  earth,  he  peruses  over  and  over.  These  place  the 
object  of  worship  very  plainly  before  him,  in  comparison 
with  the  dinmess  of  natural  religion,  and  the  darkness  of 
idolatry.  Nevertheless,  he  desires  a  fuller  manifestation 
than  this,  and  looks  forward  to  one  in  the  future.  He 
sees  through  a  glass  darkly,  though  living  under  the  light 
of  revelation  ;  and  says  with  David,  "  I  shall  be  satisfied 
[only]  when  I  awake  in  Thy  likeness."  "  If,"  says  Rich- 
ard Baxter,  "  an  angel  from  heaven  should  come  down  on 
earth  to  tell  us  all  of  God  that  we  would  know,  and  might 
lawfully  desire  and  ask  him,  who  would  not  turn  his 


THE   FUTURE   VISION   OF   GOD.  75 

back  upon  libraries,  and  universities,  and  learned  men, 
to  go  and  discourse  with  such  a  messenger  ?  What  travel 
should  I  think  too  far,  what  cost  too  great,  for  one  hour's 
talk  with  such  a  messenger  ? "  This  is  the  utterance  of  that 
holy  man  when  he  was  standing  upon  the  borders  of  eter- 
nity, and  was  about  to  go  over  into  the  "  everlasting  rest " 
whose  felicity  he  has  described  so  well.  This  is  one  of  his 
"  Dying  Thoughts,"  and  from  it  we  see  how  ardently  he 
desired  to  behold  God,  the  great  Object  of  worship,  face 
to  face.  He  had  worshipped  him  long,  and  he  had  loved 
him  long.  He  had  enjoyed  a  clearer  mental  vision,  prob- 
ably, than  is  granted  to  most  believers.  And  yet  he  is  not 
satisfied.  With  the  Psalmist  he  cries  out :  "  As  the  hart 
panteth  after  the  water  brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after 
thee,  O  God.  My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living 
God  :  when  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  God  ? " 

Now  from  these  facts  in  the  human  constitution,  and  in 
the  Christian  experience,  we  infer  that  there  will  be  a 
full  and  unclouded  vision  of  God  in  the  future  life.  This 
is  one  of  those  "  eternal  things "  which  are  not  seen  as 
yet,  but  which  will  be  seen  hereafter.  For  the  future 
world  is  the  world  where  worship  reaches  its  perfection  ; 
and  therefore  it  must  be  the  world  where  the  Object  of 
worship  shines  out  like  the  sun.  The  Scripture  figures 
and  representations  imply  this.  "I  saw  a  great  white 
throne,"  says  St.  John,  "  and  him  that  sat  on  it,  from 
whose  face  the  earth  and  the  heaven  fled  away,  and  there 
was  found  no  place  for  them.  And  I  saw  the  dead,  small 
and  great,  stand  before  God."  In  this  description  of  the 
last  judgment,  the  creature  and  the  Creator  meet  face  to 
face.  Who  can  doubt,  from  this  statement,  that  when  the 
books  are  opened  and  the  final  reckoning  is  made,  the 
phenomenal  appearance  of  the  Deity  will  be  far  more 
startling  and  striking  than  any  previous  manifestation  that 


76  THE  FUTURE  VISION   OF   GOD. 

he  has  made.  "Behold  he  cometh  with  clouds;  and 
every  eye  shall  see  him,  and  they  also  which  pierced  him." 
Here  we  are  told  that  the  human  eye  looks  directly  into  the 
Divine  eye.  There  is  even  a  specification  of  individuals. 
That  Roman  soldier  who  pierced  the  side  of  the  Lord  of 
Glory  on  Mount  Calvary  with  his  spear,  will,  in  the  day  of 
doom,  see  that  same  Eternal  One  as  distinctly  as  he  saw 
him  when  nailed  to  the  cross.  These  passages  relate  to 
the  eternal  judgment,  and  imply  an  immediate  manifesta- 
tion of  God  then  and  there ;  a  direct  vision  of  him,  face  to 
face.  But  with  equal  plainness  do  the  representations  of 
St.  John  respecting  the  eternal  worship  teach  the  same 
truth.  "I  saw,"  he  says,  "  no  temple  in  the  heavenly  Je- 
rusalem ;  for  the  Lord  God  Almighty,  and  the  Lamb,  are 
the  temple  of  it.  And  the  city  had  no  need  of  the  sun, 
,  neither  of  the  moon  to  shine  in  it,  for  the  glory  of  God 
i  did  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  tlie  light  thereof.  And 
his  servants  see  his  face,  and  his  name  is  in  their  fore- 
heads." It  is  not  possible,  as  we  have  before  remarked, 
to  imagine  or  describe  this  glorious  and  final  theophany. 
We  cannot  draw  a  picture  of  that  resplendent  Form  be- 
fore which  the  heavenly  hosts  bow  in  reverence  and  love. 
And  all  such  attempts  to  go  beyond  what  is  written  are 
presumptuous.  The  Italian  painters  sometimes  do  this ; 
and  even  our  own  Milton,  in  some  of  his  attempts  to  delin- 
eate the  state  and  glory  of  the  Eternal  God,  not  only  shows 
a  faltering  pinion,  but  derogates  from  the  Divine  honor. 
The  subject  is  beyond  human  powers.  Even  the  pen  of 
inspiration  could  not  convey  to  such  faculties  as  those  of 
man,  and  particularly  to  such  an  earthly-minded  creature  as 
he  is,  an  adequate  and  full  idea  of  the  "  excellent  glory." 
Nevertheless,  there  is  such  a  glory  ;  there  is  such  a  tran- 
scendant  manifestation  of  the  great  Object  of  worship. 
And  it  is  for  us  to  think  of  it  as  we  do  of  a  star,  or  a  sun, 


THE  FUTURE  VISION   OF   GOD.  77 

that  is  not  yet  within  the  range  of  our  vision.  We  have 
no  doubt  that  Sirius  is  this  moment  shining  witli  a  bril- 
liancy beyond  conception ;  that  he  is  throwing  out  beams 
into  universal  space  that  glitter  and  gleam  beyond  any 
light  that  ever  was  on  sea  or  land.  We  do  not  now  see 
that  star ;  our  eyes  are  not  now  blinded  by  its  intolerable 
brightness.  But  there  are  eyes  that  behold  it ;  and  if  it 
should  be  brought  within  the  range  of  our  vision,  wej 
should  be  forced  to  shield  our  orbs  from  its  glare.  Just 
so  is  it  with  the  celestial  manifestation  of  God.  It  does 
not  now  strike  upon  our  vision,  because  we  are  upon 
earth.  It  is  one  of  the  "  eternal  things "  which  are  not 
seen  as  yet.  But  it  is  none  the  less  a  reality.  The  star 
is  shining  in  full  effulgence  within  its  own  sphere  ;  and 
there  are  creatures  who  behold  and  adore.  "  Beloved, 
now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not  appear  what 
we  shall  be ;  but  we  know  that  when  he  shall  appear,  we 
shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is." ' 

For  it  will  not  be  possible  to  offer  unto  God  a  perfect 
worship,  until  we  see  him  as  the  angels  and  the  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect  see  him.  Even  here  upon  earth, 
the  fervency  of  our  love  and  praise  depends  upon  the 
clearness  with  which  we  behold  the  Divine  perfections. 
When  our  spiritual  perception  is  dim,  our  worship  is 
faint ;  but  when  we  are  granted,  in  the  sanctuary  or  in  the 
closet,  some  unusual  views  of  our  Maker  and  Redeemer, 
our  languid  affections  are  quickened.  Worship,  as  we 
have  repeatedly  remarked,  depends  upon  a  sight  of  the 
Object  of  worship ;  and  it  rises  or  sinks  as  that  comes  into 
our  view,  or  recedes  from  it.  The  Persian  Fire-Worship- 
pers adored  the  sun.  So  long  as  that  luminary  was  below 
the  horizon  they  were  silent,  and  offered  no  worship  ;  but 

'  On  the  beatific  vision,  see  Augustine's  City  of  God,  Book  XXII. 
Chap.  xxix. 


78  THE  FUTURE  VISION   OF   GOD. 

when  the  first  streaks  of  light  and  the  first  bars  of  crimson 
began  to  appear  in  the  morning  sky,  they  began  to  kindle 
in  their  own  minds.  Yet  their  worship  did  not  reach  its 
height,  nntil 

' '  Right  against  the  eastern  gate 
The  great  sun  began  his  state, 
Robed  in  flames  and  amber  light." 

So  is  it  with  Christian  worship.  Here  upon  earth  we 
see  some  faint  streaks  of  the  Divine  glory,  and  we  offer 
some  faint  and  imperfect  adoration.  But  when  the  full- 
orbed  glory  of  God  shall  rise  upon  our  clear  and  purged 
vision  in  another  world,  our  anthems  will  be  like  those  of 
the  heavenly  host.  Here  upon  earth,  our  praise  is  to 
some  degree  an  effort.  We  study,  and  we  toil,  to  give 
unto  God  the  glory  due  unto  his  name.  And  this  is  right. 
For  here,  in  time,  our  religion  must  be  to  some  extent  a 
race  and  a  fight.  There  are  obstacles  to  a  perfect  service 
which  arise  from  our  own  indwelling  sin,  and  from  the 
unfavorable  circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed  in  a 
world  like  this.  And  among  these  unfriendly  circum- 
stances is  the  fact,  that  here  in  time  God  does  not  reveal 
himself  in  the  fulness  of  his  glory.  We  see  him  through 
a  glass  darkly.  But  when  we  shall  "  come  and  appear  be- 
fore God";  when  we  shall  behold  the  Object  of  worship 
precisely  as  he  is,  it  will  cost  us  no  effort  to  worship  him. 
Our  adoration  will  become  spontaneous  and  irrepressible. 
For  the  Object  itself  prompts  the  service.  We  shall  not 
need  to  urge  our  hearts  up  to  the  anthem.  They  will  be 
drawn  out  by  the  magnetic  attraction,  the  heavenly  beanty 
of  the  Divine  Nature. 

We  have  thus  considered  one  of  those  eternal  realities 
which  are  not  seen  as  yet.  We  have  meditated  upon  that 
special  manifestation  which  God  makes  of  himself  to  the 
worshippers  in  the  upper  sanctuary.    Guided  by  the  state- 


THE   FUTUKE   VISION   OF   GOD.  79 

ments  of  Scripture,  which  are  also  confirmed  by  the  in- 
stinctive desires  of  the  renewed  heart,  as  well  as  bj  the 
constitutional  workings  of  the  human  mind,  we  have  seen 
that  the  great  object  of  our  love  and  our  worship  will  not 
always  be  seen  through  a  glass  darkly.  The  Christian  will 
one  day  behold  God  face  to  face.  Man  was  originally 
made  to  live  in  the  immediate  presence  of  his  Maker.  The 
account  that  is  given  us  in  the  opening  chapters  of  Gene- 
sis shows  that  Adam's  intercourse  with  God  was  much 
like  that  which  the  angels  enjoy.  And  is  it  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  when  the  Creator  had  produced  a  creature  in 
his  own  likeness,  and  had  endowed  him  with  holiness  and 
knowledge,  and  made  him  capable  of  a  blessed  companion- 
ship with  himself,  he  would  then  have  thrust  him  away 
from  his  presence  and  shut  him  out  of  his  communion  ?  In 
the  pagan  mythology,  Saturn  devours  his  own  children ;  but 
that  glorious  and  blessed  Being  "  of  whom  the  whole  family 
in  heaven  and  earth  is  named,"  delights  to  communicate 
the  fvJn'^ss  of  his  own  joy  to  his  offspring.  Nothing  but 
apostasy  and  rebellion  have  interrupted  this  primeval  in 
tercourse  between  man  and  God.  When  guilty  Adam 
heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  walking  in  the  garden  in 
the  cool  of  the  day,  he  hid  himself.  Previously  to  this, 
that  voice  had  had  no  terrors  for  him.  When,  therefore, 
the  restoration  shall  have  taken  place,  and  man  shall  have 
been  reinstated  in  his  original  condition,  the  old  inter- 
course will  be  resumed.  The  same  direct  vision,  the  same 
social  converse,  the  same  condescending  manifestation,  will 
be  granted  and  enjoyed.  "1  heard  a  great  voice  out  of 
heaven,  saying,  Behold,  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men, 
and  he  will  dwell  with  them,  and  they  shall  be  his  people, 
and  God  himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be  their  God." 

In  concluding  the  examination  of  this  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture up  to  this  point — for  other  important  points  still 


80  THE  FUTURE  VISION   OF   GOD. 

remain  to  be  considered — we  remark,  that  it  is  the  duty 
of  the  Christian  to  live  in  hojpe  of  the  full  vision  of  God 
in_  heaven.  The  apostle  Paul,  after  saying  that  "  the 
whole  creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  together  " 
— in  other  words,  that  there  seems  to  be,  even  in  the 
material  world,  a  craving  expectation  of  something  higher 
and  better — adds,  that  even  those  "who  have  the  first 
fruits  of  the  Spirit  groan  within  themselves,  waiting 
for  the  adoption,  that  is  to  say,  the  redemption  of  the 
body"  from  death  and  corruption.  And  everywhere  in 
his  Epistles,  he  represents  the  true  believer  as  living  in 
hope.  "  We  are  saved  by  hope,"  he  says,  "  but  hope  that 
is  seen  is  not  hope ;  for  what  a  man  seeth,  why  doth  he 
yet  hope  for  ?  " 

This  hope  extends,  of  course,  to  everything  compre- 
hended in  the  Christian  life  and  experience.  It  is  a  hope 
that  temptation  will  one  day  wholly  cease ;  that  trials  and 
sorrows  will  all  disappear ;  that  sin  will  be  entirely  cleansed 
from  t,.ii£  soul,  and  that  perfect  peace  and  joy  w'll  be  its 
portion.  But  our  subject  directs  our  thoughts  to  a  single 
particular — to  the  hope,  namely,  that  we  shall  one  day  be- 
hold God  face  to  face.  That  good  and  gracious  Being 
whom  we  have  never  seen  ;  whose  very  existence  we  have 
held  to  by  an  act  of  pure  faith  without  sight ;  who  has 
never  spoken  a  word  to  us  that  was  audible  by  the  out- 
ward ear ;  who  has  never  given  us  any  visible  sign  or  evi- 
dence of  his  existence — that  Being  to  whom  we  have  com- 
mitted our  eternal  interests,  and  our  eternal  destiny, 
without  having  either  seen  his  shape  or  heard  his  voice ; 
to  whom  we  have  lifted  up  our  hearts  in  the  hour  of  afflic- 
tion, and  in  the  watches  of  the  night,  while  yet  no  visible 
ray  has  emanated  from  his  throne  and  his  presence  ;  to 
whom  in  his  temple,  and  in  our  own  closets,  we  have 
endeavored  to  render  a  reverential  homage  and  service, 


THE   FUTURE   VISION   OF   GOD.  81 

though  we  have  had  no  visible  object  to  bow  down  be- 
fore— that  invisible,  inaudible,  intangible,  and  utterly  un- 
searchable Spirit,  we  shall  one  day  behold  face  to  face..  It 
is  not  the  intention  or  the  desire  of  our  God  to  keep  his 
children  forever  at  this  remote  distance  from  him.  He 
cannot  wisely  make  such  miraculous  manifestations  of  him- 
self to  his  Church  in  every  age,  as  he  has  made  to  them  in 
some  ages ;  and  he  cannot  appear  in  celestial  glory  here 
in  these  fogs  and  vapors  of  earth.  A'  perpetual  miracle 
would  defeat  its  own  end.  The  rejecters  of  the  truth  con- 
nected with  the  miracle  would  soon  become  accustomed  to 
it,  as  they  did  under  the  miraculous  dispensation ;  "  for 
though  Christ  had  done  so  many  miracles  before  them,  yet 
they  believed  not  on  him  "  (John  xii.  37).  And  even  the 
partially-sanctified  people  of  God  themselves  would  receive 
a  fainter  and  fainter  impression  from  it.  The  celestial 
manifestation  of  God  is  therefore  in  reserve,  and  we  must 
hope  and  wait  for  it.  Let  us,  therefore,  as  Moses  did, 
"endure  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible."  For  we  shall 
not  be  called  to  endure  forever.  There  is  a  time  coming 
when  faith  shall  be  turned  into  sight ;  when  that  star 
whose  beams  have  never  yet  fallen  upon  our  vision,  but 
which  has  all  the  while  been  shining  in  its  glory,  shall 
break  through  the  dusky  air,  and  we  shall  see  it,  and  re- 
joice in  its  everlasting  radiance  and  gleam. 

"  Then  '  Glory  to  the  Father,  to  the  Son, 
And  to  the  Holy  Spirit,'  rings  aloud 
Throughout  all  Paradise ;  that  with  the  song 
The  spirit  reels,  so  passing  sweet  the  strain. 
And  what  it  sees  is  equal  ecstasy  : 
One  universal  smile  it  seems  of  all  things ; 
Joy  past  compare  ;  gladness  unutterable  ; 
Imperishable  life  of  peace  and  love  ; 
Exhaustless  riches,  and  unmeasured  bliss."  ' 

•Dante:   Paradise,  XXVII.  1-9. 


SERMON   VI. 

GOD   THE   STRENGTH  OF  MAN. 


Psalm  Ixxxiv.  5. — "  Blessed  is  the  man  whose  strength  is  in  Thee. 


Power  and  enjoyment  are  reciprocally  related  to  each 
other.  "  To  be  weak  is  to  be  miserable,"  said  Satan  to 
Beelzebub,  as  they  lay  weltering  in  the  floods  of  tempes- 
tuous fire,  after  their  expulsion  from  heaven ;  and  it  is  a 
truth,  though  falling  from  satanic  lips.  He  who  is  filled 
with  a  sense  of  weakness  and  danger  is  unhappy  ;  but  he 
who  is  conscious  of  inward  power  and  security  is  blest.  It 
is  a  universal  fact  that  the  enjoyment  of  any  being  is  pro- 
portioned to  his  strength,  and  partakes  of  the  nature  of  it. 
If  his  is  an  inferior  and  uncertain  strength,  his  is  an  in- 
ferior and  uncertain  happiness.  If  his  confidence  is  in 
liis  health  and  his  wealth,  then  his  enjoyment  is  of  an 
earthly  nature,  and  will  endure  only  while  he  lives  upon 
earth.  If  his  is  a  superior  and  permanent  strength,  his  is 
a  superior  and  permanent  enjoyment.  If  the  strength  of  a 
man  is  the  eternal  God,  and  the  immutable  truth  that  is 
settled  in  heaven  ;  if  it  is  in  spiritual  and  heavenly  objects ; 
then  his  happiness  is  heavenly,  and  will  endure  forever. 

The  Divine  Word,  however,  throws  all  these  lower 
species  out  of  the  account,  and  calls  no  man  strong  unless 
his  strength  is  in  God ;  no  creature  happy  unless  he  re- 


GOD  THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN.  83 

poses  unwaveringly  upon  his  Father  in  heaven.  And  this 
judgment  of  the  Word  of  God  is  true  altogether.  For 
ought  that  pleasure  to  be  denominated  by  so  expressive  a 
term  as  blessedness,  which  depends  upon  the  fragile  objects 
of  sense  and  time,  and  which  ceases  altogether  when  the 
soul  passes  into  another  world  ?  Does  that  man  know  any- 
thing of  true  mental  peace  and  satisfaction  who  merely 
buys  and  sells  and  gets  gain  ?  Has  he  anything  of  heaven 
in  his  experience  who  makes  himself  his  own  end  and  his 
own  strength,  and  finds  in  the  hour  of  real  trial — of  af- 
fliction and  of  death,  when  flesh  and  heart  fail — that  God 
is  not  the  strength  of  his  heart  and  his  portion  forever  ? 
The  Bible  does  not  look  upon  man  and  his  happiness  with 
man's  weak  eye.  It  takes  its  stand  in  the  skies,  far  above 
the  little  theatre  of  this  existence,  and  looks  with  the  all- 
surveying  glance  of  God.  It  contemplates  man  as  an  im- 
mortal creature  who  must  live  forever ;  who  needs  com- 
munion with  God,  and  love  to  him  and  from  him,  and 
trust  in  him,  in  order  that  the  long  eternity  of  his  existence 
may  have  something  to  repose  upon,  and  not  be  an  un- 
supported aching  void  in  which  there  is  not  a  moment  of 
genuine  happiness,  not  a  single  element  of  peace.  Con- 
sequently in  giving  an  opinion  and  estimate,  the  Scriptures 
pay  little  attention  to  this  short  life  of  threescore  years 
and  ten.  They  measure  by  eternity.  Man  may  deem 
himself  happy  if  he  can  obtain  what  this  life  oft'ers,  but 
the  Bible  calls  him  miserable — nay,  calls  him  a  fool — be- 
cause the  time  is  very  near  when  this  whole  earthly  life 
itself  will  terminate.  Man  calls  himself  happy  if  he  can 
grasp  and  cling  to  the  objects  of  this  world  ;  but  the  Word 
of  God  asserts  that  he  is  really  wretched,  because  this 
world  will  soon  be  melted  with  fervent  heat.  Man  flatters 
himself  that  all  is  well  with  him  while  he  gratifies  the 
flesh,  and  feeds  the  appetites  of  his  corrupt  nature  ;  but 


84  GOD   THE   STEENGTH   OF  MAN. 

God  asserts  in  thunder-tones  that  all  is  ill  with  him,  be- 
cause his  spirit  is  not  fed  with  the  bread  that  cometh  down 
from  heaven.  God  is  on  the  throne,  and  looks  down  upon 
all  the  dwellers  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  from  his 
calm  seat  sees  all  their  hurried,  busy,  and  little  movements 
— like  those  of  ants  upon  the  ant-hill — and  he  knows,  and 
in  his  Word  affirms,  that  however  much  they  may  seem  to 
enjoy  in  their  low  sphere,  and  in  their  grovelling  pursuits, 
they  are  nevertheless  possessed  of  nothing  like  solid  good 
in  any  degree,  unless  they  look  up  to  him  from  amidst  the 
stir  and  dimness  of  earth,  for  a  participation  in  the  holi- 
ness and  happiness  of  their  Creator.  He  knows  and 
affirms,  that  no  man  whose  strength  is  not  in  Him,  whose 
supports  and  portion  are  merely  temporal  and  earthly,  is 
blessed. 

Man  is  a  creature  of  time,  and  sustains  relations  in  it. 
He  is  also  a  creature  made  for  eternity,  and  sustains  cor- 
responding relations.  Let  us  then  look  at  him  in  these 
two  different  worlds,  that  we  see  how  he  is  blessed  in  them 
both  if  his  strength  is  in  God ;  and  how  he  is  unblest  in 
them  botli  if  his  strength  is  not  in  God. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  man  is  in  time,  and  in  an  earthly 
and  transient  state  of  being ;  how  will  he  be  unblest  in 
this  life  if  his  strength  is  not  in  God,  and  how  will  he  be 
blest  in  this  life  if  his  strength  is  in  God  ? 

If  man  is  ever  to  be  happy  without  God,  it  must  be  in 
some  such  world  as  this.  It  must  be  in  a  material  world, 
where  it  is  possible  to  banish  the  thought  of  God  and  of  re- 
sponsibility, and  find  occupation  and  a  species  of  enjoyment 
in  other  beings  and  objects.  If  a  creature  desires  to  be  happy 
away  from  God,  and  in  opposition  to  his  commandment,  he 
must  accomplish  it  before  he  goes  into  a  spiritual  world ; 
he  must  effect  it  amidst  these  visible  and  temporal  scenes. 
This  is  his  only  opportunity.     No  sinful  creature  can  be 


GOD    THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN.  85 

happy  for  a  moment  in  the  life  to  come.  He  must  there- 
fore obtain  before  he  dies  all  the  enjoyment  he  will  ever 
obtain.  Like  Dives,  he  must  receive  all  his  "  good  things  " 
here.  If  man  can  ever  dispense  with  the  help  and  favor 
of  God,  and  not  feel  his  need  of  him,  it  must  be  w^hen  he 
is  fully  absorbed  in  the  cares  and  interests  of  this  life,  and 
when  he  can  centre  his  affections  on  father  and  mother,  on 
houses  and  lands.  Standing  within  this  sphere,  he  can,  if 
ever,  be  without  God  and  not  be  miserable.  For  he  can 
busy  his  thoughts,  and  exert  his  faculties,  and  send  forth 
his  affections,  and  thus  find  occupation  away  from  his 
Creator.  And  hence  it  is,  that  there  is  so  much  of  sinful 
pleasure  in  this  life,  while  there  is  none  of  it  in  the  next. 
In  this  material  world  a  man  can  make  himself  his  own 
end  of  living,  and  not  be  constantly  wretched.  But  in  the 
spiritual  world  where  God  and  duty  must  be  the  principal 
subjects  of  reflection,  no  man  can  be  supremely  selfish 
without  being  supremely  miserable.  Take  therefore  your 
sinful  enjoyment  in  this  life — ye  who  hanker  after  this 
kind  of  pleasure — for  it  is  impossible  to  find  any  of  it  in 
the  next  life.  "Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  the  days  of  thy 
youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy 
youth,  and  walk  in  the  ways  of  thine  heart,  and  in  the  sight 
of  thine  eyes :  but  know  thou  that  for  all  these  things  God 
will  bring  thee  into  judgment.'' 

Still,  even  this  life,  with  all  its  sinful  enjoyment,  is  not 
a  blessed  life  for  a  worldly  man.  There  is  a  heaven-wide 
difference  between  earthly  pleasure  and  blessedness.  The 
worldling  sees  dark  days  and  sad  hours,  when  he  is 
compelled  to  say,  even  in  the  midst  of  all  that  this  life 
gives  him  :  "  I  am  not  a  blessed  being ;  I  am  not  peaceful 
and  free  from  apprehension ;  I  am  not  right  with  God. 
And  I  know  that  I  never  shall  be,  in  this  line  of  life. 
Heaven  is  impossible  for  me,  until  I  love  God  more  than  I 


86  GOD  THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN. 

love  myself  and  the  world."  All  serious  reflection  tends 
to  destroy  the  happiness  of  such  a  man.  He  cannot  com- 
mune an  instant  with  his  own  heart,  without  beginning  to 
feel  wretched.  Thinking  makes  him  miserable.  He  has 
fastened  his  affections,  which  can  really  find  no  rest  but  in 
an  infinite  good,  upon  gold,  honor,  and  pleasure.  But  he 
knows  in  his  reflecting  moments  that  liis  gold  will  perish, 
and  if  it  did  not,  that  he  must  ultimately  grow  weary  of 
it.  He  knows  that  worldly  honor  and  sensual  enjoyment 
will  flee  away  from  his  dying  bed ;  and  that  even  if  they 
did  not,  they  could  be  no  solace  to  him  in  that  awful  crisis 
of  the  soul.  He  knows  in  these  honest  and  truthful  hours 
that  the  chief  good  is  not  his,  because  he  has  not  made 
God  his  strength  and  portion.  And  although,  because  of 
his  alienation  from  God  and  servile  fear  of  him,  and  his 
dislike  of  the  warfare  with  selfishness  and  sin  which  the 
gospel  requires,  he  may  rush  away  even  fuither  than  ever 
from  God,  and  cling  with  yet  more  intensity  to  the  objects 
of  this  life,  he  is  nevertheless  attended  with  an  obscure 
feeling  that  all  is  not  well  with  his  soul.  That  old  and 
solemn  question  :  "  Is  it  well  with  thy  soul  ?  "  every  now 
and  then  peals  through  him,  and  makes  him  anxious.  But 
what  kind  of  pleasure  is  that  which  can  thus  be  inter- 
rupted ?  How  can  you  call  a  being  blessed  who  is  standing 
upon  such  a  slippery  place  ?  A  man  needs  to  feel  not  only 
happy,  but  safety  happy — happy  upon  solid  and  immov- 
able grounds — in  order  to  be  truly  happy.  Probably 
Dives  himself  sometimes  had  a  dim  intimation  of  the 
misery  that  was  to  burst  upon  him  when  he  should  stand 
before  God.  Probably  every  worldly  man  hears  these 
words  said  to  him  occasionally  from  the  chambers  of  his 
conscience  :  "  You  are  comparatively  at  ease  now-,  but  this 
ease  cannot  be  permanent.  You  know,  or  may  know,  that 
you  will  have  no  source  of  peace  in  death  and  the  judg- 


GOD  THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN.  87 

ment.     Your  portion  is  not  in  God,  and  therefore  you 
cannot  rest  upon  liim  when  flesh  and  heart  faih" 

But  there  are  other  objects  in  this  world  in  which  man 
endeavors  to  find  strength  and  happiness,  besides  gold  and 
lionor  and  sensual  pleasure.  He  seeks  it  in  the  delights 
of  home,  and  in  the  charities  and  sympathies  of  social  life. 
And  we  grant  that  the  enjoyment  which  these  bestow 
upon  him  is  great.  But  it  is  not  the  greatest,  and  it  is  not 
eternal.  Christ  has  said:  "He  that  loveth  father  and 
mother,  son  or  daughter,  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of 
me,  and  cannot  be  my  disciple."  This  affirmation  of  our 
Saviour  has  its  ground  in  the  nature  of  the  human  spirit, 
and  its  relation  to  God.  However  much  we  may  love  our 
kindred  and  friends,  they  cannot  take  the  place  of  God  ; 
they  cannot  be  an  object  of  supreme  affection.  However 
much,  in  our  idolatrous  fondness,  we  may  try  to  make  them 
our  hope  and  portion,  we  shall  discover  sooner  or  later 
that  they  cannot  meet  the  higher  and  eternal  demands  of 
our  complex  being — that  they  cannot  satisfy  that  immortal 
part  which  God  intended  should  find  its  strength  and 
blessedness  in  him  alone.  There  are  capabilities  of  wor- 
ship and  adoration  and  heavenly  service  given  us  by  crea- 
tion, and  they  ought  to  be  awakened,  renovated,  set  in 
action,  and  met  by  their  appropriate  object — God  only 
wise,  God  over  all  blessed  forever.  Conscience,  moreover, 
the  law  of  our  moral  existence,  is  solemn  in  its  command : 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and 
all  thy  might."  It  forbids  us  to  live  solely  and  absorbingly 
in  the  lower  sphere  of  social  relations,  and  bids  us  to  soar 
above  and  expend  our  choicest  affection  upon  the  Father 
of  spirits — the  Infinite  One  whose  we  are,  and  whom  we 
are  bound  to  serve.  The  original  constitution  of  our  souls 
interferes  with  the  attempt  to  be  happy  in  the  social  and 
domestic  circles  without  God ;    and  although  conscience 


88  GOD   THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN. 

cannot  conquer  our  folly  and  our  sin,  it  can  and  does 
disquiet  and  harass  our  minds. 

But  even  if  man  could  be  perfectly  happy  in  the  strength 
and  solace  springing  from  his  domestic  and  social  relations, 
he  would  be  so  but  for  a  short  time.  The  enjoyment  com- 
ing from  them  is  continually  fluctuating.  The  lapse  of 
years  produces  great  modifications  of  the  family,  even  here 
upon  earth.  The  child  grows  up  to  manhood,  and  the 
parent  passes  into  old  age.  The  child  becomes  a  parent 
himself,  and  is  engrossed  in  new  relations  and  cares; 
while  the  parent  dies  more  and  more  to  earthly  ties,  and 
when  his  spirit  returns  to  God  who  gave  it  he  is  done  with 
earth  and  all  its  interests.  In  the  kingdom  of  God  they 
neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage,  but  are  as  the 
angels  of  God.  These  temporal  earthly  relationships  of 
father  and  son,  wife  and  child,  cannot,  therefore,  be  relied 
upon  as  the  everlasting  foundation  of  trust  and  joy.  They 
are  merely  preparatory  to  the  higher  relationships  which 
we  must  sustain  in  a  future  life,  or  be  miserable. 

Furthermore,  even  in  this  life  they  are  continually  break- 
ing up.  Death  comes.  Friend  after  friend  is  continually 
departing,  and  the  grief  at  the  loss  is  as  poignant  as  the  joy 
in  the  possession.  The  happiness  that  is  dependent  upon 
even  a  true  and  tried  friend  is  transient  and  uncertain.  It 
lasts  not  long,  for  the  grave  removes  him  from  our  eyes, 
and  we  are  left  to  mourn.  The  world  that  was  bright 
because  he  was  in  it,  has  grown  dark  because  he  has  left 
it.  We  turn  away  in  brokenness  of  heart,  and  feel  in 
these  sad  moments,  if  at  no  other  time,  that  we  need  a 
more  abiding  Friend ;  that  we  need  that  friendship  of  God 
by  which  earthly  friendships  are  consecrated  and  ennobled  ; 
that  we  need  him  for  the  strength  of  our  heart  when  he 
putteth  lover  and  friend  far  from  us.  And  as  we  leave 
the  lesser  circle  of  kindred  and  friends,  and  look  forth  into 


GOD  THE   STRENGTH   OP  MAN.  89 

that  of  society  around  us,  we  find  that  there  is  continual 
change.  If  our  happiness  is  entirely  dependent  upon  the 
world  around  us,  and  we  have  made  its  interests  and  pur- 
suits our  main  support,  we  discover  that  the  world  itself 
lias  no  permanency.  One  generation  goes  and  another 
comes.  Where  is  the  generation  that  crowded  these  streets, 
transacting  business  and  absorbed  in  earthly  pursuits,  fifty 
years  ago  ?  All  that  whirl  is  hushed  in  death  ;  and  fifty 
years  hence,  the  same  inquiry  will  be  put  respecting  the 
noise  and  bustle  that  now  roars  and  chokes  in  these  ave- 
nues of  business  and  pleasure.  Man  and  man's  life  is  the 
shadow  of  a  shadow.  Everything  in  him  and  about  him 
is  in  a  perpetual  flux  toward  eternity,  and  the  immediate 
presence  of  God.  He  cannot,  if  he  would,  stop  the  course 
of  that  upon  which  he  has  made  his  happiness  to  depend, 
but  is  hurried  along  into  a  mode  of  existence  where  there  is 
no  change,  and  but  one  engrossing  Object,  even  God  himself. 
Can  strength,  peaceful  strength,  be  predicated  of  us,  then, 
if  we  have  no  standing-place  but  that  which  is  every  in- 
stant gliding  like  quicksand  from  under  our  feet  ?  Can 
true  happiness  be  afiirmed  of  our  souls,  if  their  supreme 
good  is  in  that  which  is  leaving  us  every  day,  and  which 
we  shall  leave  entirely  behind  us  when  we  die  ? 

We  have  thus  seen  that  it  cannot  be  said  :  "  Blessed  is 
the  man  whose  strength  is  in  wealth,  or  in  reputation,  or 
in  pleasure,  or  in  kindred  and  friends,  or  in  the  inter- 
ests and  pursuits  of  social  and  civil  life."  That  it  can  be 
said  of  man  even  in  this  transient  and  sorrowful  life, 
and  amidst  these  unsatisfying  and  fleeting  relationships : 
"  Blessed  is  the  man  whose  strength  is  in  God,"  needs  but 
little  proof.  "  Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose 
soul  is  stayed  on  Thee,"  is  the  aflSrmation  of  one  who 
knew  by  his  own  personal  experience.  "  Great  peace  have 
all  they  that  love  thy  law,"  says  one  who  tried  it  for  him- 


90  GOD   THE   STEENGTH   OF   MAN. 

self.  He  whose  supreme  strength  is  in  God  will  be 
happy  in  any  relation  that  he  sustains,  and  in  any  world 
in  which  God  may  please  to  put  him.  He  who  is  strong 
in  the  Lord,  and  has  him  for  his  portion,  cannot  be  made 
miserable.  If  he  should  be  seai,  on  an  errand  to  the  spirits 
in  hell,  he  would  go  fearlessly,  arici^here  would  be  nothing 
in  that  world  of  woe  that  could  disturb  his  holy  and  af- 
fectionate trust  in  God.  A  man  whose  heart  is  fixed, 
trusting  in  the  Lord,  is  absolutely  independent  of  the  whole 
creation.  His  wealth  may  take  wings  and  fly  away  ;  but 
the  cheering  presence  of  his  Maker  and  Saviour  is  in  his 
heart  still.  Worldly  good  he  may,  or  may  not  have  ;  but 
the  approbation  of  God  destroys  all  regard  for  it,  and  all 
sense  for  it,  even  as  the  sunlight  by  its  bright  effulgence 
annihilates  moonlight  and  starlight.  He  may  be  very 
happy  in  his  domestic  and  social  relations  ;  but  this  happi- 
ness will  have  its  deeper  foundation  and  source  in  God. 
It  will  not  be  a  forbidden  enjoyment  that  never  goes  be- 
yond the  earthly  objects  of  his  affection,  and  centres  solely 
and  supremely  in  the  wife  or  the  child.  As  a  father  or  a 
son,  as  a  neighbor  or  a  citizen,  he  will  look  up  to  his 
Heavenly  Father — to  his  Father  in  Christ,  "  of  whom  the 
whole  family  on  earth  and  heaven  is  named  " — as  the 
blessed  ground  of  all  these  relationships,  and  in  whose 
glory  they  should  all  be  merged.  Therefore,  amidst  all 
change  which  is  incident  to  them,  lie  will  be  unmoved, 
because  God  is  immutable  ;  he  will  be  strong  as  they  reveal 
their  weakness  and  perishing  nature,  because  his  primal 
strength  is  in  God  ;  and  he  will  be  blessed  as  the  sources 
of  his  earthl}^  enjoyment  fail,  because  God  is  his  chief 
good. 

It  is  because  man's  hope  and  strength  are  not  in  God, 
that  his  enjoyment  of  created  good  is  so  unsatisfactory  and 
uncertain.     "  Godliness  hath  the  promise  of  the  life  that 


GOD   THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN.  91 

now  is,  as  well  as  that  which  is  to  come ; "  and  if  all  men 
were  godly,  the  earth  would  be  fairer  around  them,  and 
more  full  of  promise  and  of  hope.  The  elder  Edwards 
thus  describes  the  change  which  came  over  the  visible 
material  world  after  his  coj^ersion,  and  as  his  sense  of 
divine  things  increase(i,^^The  appearance  of  everything 
was  altered  ;  there  seemed  to  be,  as  it  were,  a  calm  sweet 
cast,  or  appearance  of  divine  glory  in  almost  everything. 
God's  excellency,  his  wisdom,  his  purity  and  love,  seemed 
to  appear  in  everything ;  in  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars ; 
in  the  clouds  and  blue  sky  ;  in  the  grass,  flowers,  trees ; 
in  the  water,  and  all  nature  ;  Avhich  used  greatly  to  fix  my 
mind.  I  often  used  to  sit  and  view  the  moon  for  continu- 
ance ;  and  in  the  day,  spent  much  time  in  viewing  the 
clouds  and  sky,  to  behold  the  sweet  glory  of  God  in  these 
things  ;  in  the  meantime  singing  forth  with  low  voice,  my 
contemplations  of  the  Creator  and  Redeemer.  And  scarce 
anything  among  all  the  works  of  nature  was  so  sweet  to 
me  as  thunder  and  lightning ;  formerly  nothing  had  been 
so  terrible  to  me.  Before,  I  used  to  be  uncommonly  terri- 
fied with  thunder,  and  to  be  struck  with  terror  when  I  saw 
a  thunder-storm  rising ;  but  now,  on  the  contrary,  it  re- 
joiced me.  I  felt  God,  so  to  speak,  at  the  first  appearance 
of  a  thunder-storm;  and  used  to  take  the  opportunity,  at 
such  times,  to  fix  myself  in  order  to  view  the  clouds,  and 
see  the  lightning  play,  and  hear  the  majestic  and  awful 
voice  of  God's  thunder,  which  oftentimes  was  exceedingly 
entertaining,  leading  me  to  sweet  contemplations  of  my 
great  and  glorious  God."  ' 

If  the  supreme  and  positive  love  of  God  pervaded  and 
gave  color  to  our  love  of  his  creatures,  the  creation  would 
be  a  source  of  more  heartfelt  pleasure  than  it  now  is.     We 

'  Life  of  Edwards.     Works,  I.  p.  20. 


92  GOD   THE   STEENGTH   OF   MAN. 

should  then  cherish  a  subordinate  and  proper  affection 
for  earth,  and  while  it  brought  us  the  enjoyment  that  per- 
tains to  the  lower  sphere  of  the  created  and  the  finite,  it 
would  be  still  more  valuable  as  the  means  of  introducing  our 
souls  into  the  presence  and  enjoyment  of  God.  Worldly 
pleasure  if  experienced  too  keenly  and  too  long  renders 
the  heart  intensely  selfish.  Beware  of  long-continued  and 
uninterrupted  earthly  happiness.  There  is  no  heart  so  cal- 
lous, so  flinty,  so  utterly  impenetrable  to  holy  impressions, 
as  that  of  a  man  of  pleasure.     Said  Burns,  who  knew : 

"  I  waive  the  quantum  of  the  sin, 
The  hazard  of  concealing  ; 
But  0,  it  hardens  all  within, 
And  petrifies  the  feeling." 

Merely  earthly  enjoyment,  moreover,  sates  and  disgusts 
the  rational  mind  of  man.  For  this,  notwithstanding  its 
apostasy,  has  at  times  a  dim  intimation  that  there  is,  some- 
where and  somehow,  a  higher  enjoyment  and  a  genuine 
joy  that  never  cloys,  but  which,  as  it  runs  through  the  fibres 
of  the  soul,  carries  with  it  an  invigorating  and  appetizing 
virtue  that  produces  a  hunger  and  thirst  after  still  more 
enrapturing  influxes.  Man  enters  with  too  much  hilarity, 
and  too  absorbing  a  passion,  into  the  enjoyment  of  this 
life,  unless  he  is  tempered  and  tranquillized  by  a  superior 
affection  for  an  Infinite  Being.  If  without  strength  and 
hope  in  God  as  his  ultimate  and  highest  good,  he  is  often 
filled  with  a  happiness  that  is  too  tumultuous  and  stormy  to 
be  enduring.  A  storm  cannot  continue  long,  either  in  the 
world  of  matter  or  of  mind.  Hence,  in  these  hours  of 
excited  fermenting  revelry,  there  is  often  a  faint  intimation 
given  to  the  soul,  like  the  premonitory  tremor  before  the 
earthquake,  that  its  enjoyment  is  short-lived.  The  deeper 
part  of  the  man,  the  solemn  conscience,  sends  off  tidings 
that  it  has  no  participation  in  this  pleasure ;  that,  on  the 


GOD  THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN.  93 

contrary,  moral  indignation  and  moral  fear  are  the  emo- 
tions down  below,  whatever  may  be  the  hilarity  on  the 
surface.  But  if,  while  that  part  of  our  nature  which  was 
made  to  take  pleasure  in  temporal  things  is  experiencing 
it,  that  other  portion  of  our  nature  whose  appropriate  ob- 
ject is  God  is  also  having  its  wants  met  in  Him,  there  is 
a  tranquil  and  rational  enjoyment  diffused  through  the 
whole  man.  If  the  celestial  world  sends  down  its  radiance 
into  the  terrestrial,  there  is  everywhere  a  serene  and  pleas- 
ant light.  Writers  upon  physical  geography  tell  us  that 
the  presence  of  a  mountain  renders  the  atmosphere  cooler 
in  summer,  and  warmer  in  winter.  A  large  mass  of  matter 
equalizes  the  temperature.  In  like  manner,  if  in  the 
horizon  and  atmosphere  of  our  souls  there  is  the  presence 
of  the  Infinite  God,  there  will  be  serenity,  and  no  violent 
changes.  In  the  summer  of  prosperity,  the  soul  will  be 
soberly  joyful ;  in  the  winter  of  adversity,  the  soul  will  be 
serenely  content.  For  the  presence  of  the  Eternal  will  be 
the  main  element  of  happiness  in  each  instance ;  and  He 
is  always  present  and  always  the  same.  Though,  therefore, 
in  the  lower  region  of  earthly  objects  and  relations  there 
be  darkness,  and  storm,  and  tempest,  in  the  higher  region 
of  spiritual  objects  and  heavenly  affections  there  is  a  still 
air,  and  the  light  of  the  heaven  of  heavens  is  shining  in 
its  strong  effulgence.  And  even  when  the  clouds  gather 
thick  and  black  in  the  horizon  of  our  mortal  life,  and  there 
is  mourning  because  its  objects  are  passing  away,  this  lucid 
light  of  heaven  will  steal  into  the  black  mass,  and  drive 
out  the  blackness,  and  drench  these  clouds  with  its  radiance, 
and  suffuse  all  along  the  horizon  with  the  colors  of  the 
skies. 

II.  We  have  thus  considered  man  as  belonging  to  time, 
and  found  that  he  is  miserable  if  his  strength  and  hope 
are  in  the  creature,  and  that  he  is  blessed  if  his  strength 


94  GOD   THE   STRENGTH   OP   MAN. 

and  hope  are  in  God.  Let  lis  now,  in  the  second  place, 
contemplate  man  as  belonging  to  eternity  and  sustaining 
relations  to  the  invisible  world,  and  see  that  the  same 
assertion  holds  true,  and  commends  itself  with  a  yet 
deeper  emphasis  to  our  reflections. 

Although  the  hour  of  death  is,  strictly  speaking,  a  part 
of  time,  yet  it  is  so  closely  joined  to  eternity  that  it  may 
practically  be  considered  as  belonging  to  it.  Observation 
proves  that  there  are  few  conversions  at  the  eleventh  hour ; 
and  we  may  assume,  as  a  general  fact,  that  as  a  man  is 
when  lying  upon  his  death-bed,  so  will  he  be  forever  and 
ever.  For  although  it  is  possible,  even  at  this  late  hour,  to 
have  the  relation  of  the  soul  towards  God  changed  from 
that  of  the  rebel  to  that  of  the  child,  the  possibility  rarely 
becomes  a  reality.  In  that  solemn  hour,  even  if  there  be  not 
the  stupor  of  disease,  but  the  soul  is  stung  with  remorse, 
and  the  awful  idea  of  eternity  throws  a  horror  of  great 
darkness  over  the  whole  inner  man,  it  is  extremely  difficult 
to  collect  the  mental  powers,  and  with  a  clear  eye  look  at 
sin,  and  with  a  sincere  heart  repent  of  it,  and  with  an 
energetic  faith  trust  in  Christ's  blood.  If  the  man  has 
gone  through  life,  in  spite  of  all  the  obstacles  which  a 
merciful  God  throws  in  his  path  to  perdition,  and  in  op- 
position to  the  repeated  monitions  of  conscience  and  con- 
victions by  the  Holy  Spirit,  without  experiencing  that 
change  which  alone  fits  him  for  an  entrance  into  the  king- 
dom of  God,  there  is  small  hope  that  this  great  change 
will  be  wrought  amidst  the  weakness  and  languor  of 
disease,  or  the  perturbation  and  despair  of  the  drowzed 
soul  which  has  only  half  awaked  to  know  its  real  condi- 
tion and  tlie  brink  where  it  stands.  "We  may  therefore 
affirm,  generally,  that  as  a  man  is  when  overtaken  by  his 
last  sickness,  so  will  he.  be  forevermore.  We  may  there- 
fore affirm,  that  practically  the  hour  of  death  is  for  man 


GOD   THE   STRENGTH   OF  MAN.  95 

a  part  of  the  eternal  state.     Time  and  eternity  here  blend 
in  the  experience  and  destiny  of  the  soul. 

How  un blest,  then,  is  a  man,  if  in  this  last  hour  of 
time  which  is  also  the  first  hour  of  eternity,  his  strength 
is  not  in  God.  How  wretched  is  he,  if  in  these  first 
moments  of  his  final  state,  the  farm,  or  the  merchandise, 
or  the  book,  or  the  father,  or  the  child,  or  the  wife,  or  the 
pleasures  of  social  life,  or  the  interests  of  civil  life,  are  his 
only  portion  and  support.  He  has  enjoyed,  it  may  be, 
much  that  springs  from  these  temporal  relations,  and  life 
in  the  main  has  gone  well  with  him.  Yet,  as  from  the 
vantage-ground  of  this  death-bed  he  looks  back  upon  life, 
he  sees  as  he  could  not  while  amidst  its  excitement  and 
fascination,  that  after  all  it  has  been  a  "  fitful  fever,"  and 
that  he  is  not  to  "  sleep  well  "  after  it.  He  perceives  with 
a  vividness  and  certainty  that  he  never  felt  before,  that 
he  has  been  a  sinful  man  because  in  relation  to  God  he 
has  been  a  supremely  selfish  and  idolatrous  man.  And 
now  he  feels  that  he  is  a  lost  man,  because  his  strength  is 
not  in  God,  in  the  slightest  degree.  *  He  finds  that  he  has 
no  filial  love  for  his  Maker.  In  the  Scripture  phrase,  he 
is  "  alienated  "  from  God,  and  "  without "  God,  both  in 
this  world  and  in  the  next.  He  finds  that  the  account  be- 
tween himself  and  his  Maker  is  closed,  and  that  God  is 
entering  into  judgment  with  him,  and  bidding  him  look 
for  his  portion  and  his  strength  where  he  has  sought  it  all 
the  days  of  his  sinful  life.  He  hears  those  solemn  and 
righteous  words  which  are  addressed  only  to  those  who 
have  despised  and  rejected  the  offer  of  mercy  :  "  Because 
I  have  called  and  ye  refused  ;  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand, 
and  no  man  regarded ;  but  ye  have  set  at  nought  all  my 
counsel,  and  would  none  of  my  reproof  ;  I  also  will  laugh 
at  your  calamity  ;  I  will  mock  when  your  fear  cometh. 
Then  shall  they  call  upon  me,  but  I  will  not  answer ;  they 


96  GOD  THE   STRENGTH   OF  MAN. 

8hall  seek  me  early,  but  they  shall  not  find  me."  *  O  my 
fellow  man,  if  in  your  dying  hour  you  cannot  look  up  to 
God,  and  say  :  "  Thou  art  the  strength  of  my  heart,  and 
my  portion  forever,"  you  are  an  unblest  creature,  and  there 
is  nothing  but  misery  for  you  in  eternity.  Your  spirit 
when  it  leaves  the  body  will  begin  an  everlasting  wander- 
ing away  from  God.  It  will  want  to  wander,  and  hide 
from  his  sight.  It  does  not  love  him  here  and  now,  and 
therefore  cannot  abide  his  presence  there  and  then.  How 
full  of  wretchedness  must  such  a  spirit  be  when  it  enters 
the  other  world,  where  there  is  but  one  Object  for  any 
creature  to  lean  upon,  and  yet  that  Object  in  relation  to  it 
is  one  of  dislike,  distaste,  antipathy,  and  hostility.  It 
must,  therefore,  turn  in  upon  its  own  emptiness  and  guilt, 
because  it  has  not  made  Christ  its  refuge,  and  God  its 
strength. 

The  impenitent  death-bed  is  a  dark  scene,  and  the  im- 
penitent eternity  is  the  blackness  of  darkness.  Let  us  turn 
from  it  to  the  believer's  death-bed,  which  is  a  bright  scene, 
and  to  the  believer's  eternity  which  is  light  inacessible  and 
full  of  glory.  When  the  soul  V^iich  has  really  made  God 
its  strength  is  summoned  to  leave  the  body,  and  enter  into 
the  endless  life,  it  is  strong — stronger  than  ever;  and 
happy — happier  than  ever.  It  is  strong  ;  for  it  does  not 
rest  upon  anything  that  perishes,  and  tlie  everlasting  arms 
are  beneath.  Though  the  fainting  flesh  and  heart  fail,  yet 
God  is  the  strength  of  the  heart.  The  soul  knows  that  it 
is  departing  from  the  objects  amidst  which  it  has  liad  its 
existence,  but  not  from  the  one  great  Being  in  whom  it 
has  lived  somewhat  holily  and  tranquilly  on  earth,  and 
will  now  continue  to  live  forever.  Earthly  relationships 
are  disappearing,  and  earthly  bands  are  breaking  away  from 

•  Compare,  also,  Ps.  lii.  7. 


GOD   THE   STEENGTH   OF  MAN.  97 

it,  but  the  relationship  of  a  child  of  God  will  ever  belong 
to  it,  and  the  hopes  and  aspirations  of  this  relation  which 
it  has  been  feebly  but  faithfully  cherishing  in  an  imperfect 
state  are  to  gather  force  and  intensity  forever.  Such  a  soul 
does  not  feel  that  its  strength  is  waning,  but  that  it  is  wax- 
ing stronger  and  mightier ;  and  so  with  tranquillity,  per- 
haps with  triumph — "  a  mortal  paleness  on  the  brow,  a 
glory  in  the  soul  " — it  goes  into  the  presence  of  God.  As 
in  the  hour  of  death,  we  have  seen  that  the  kindling 
flashes  of  hell  appear  in  the  soul  of  the  unpardoned,  so  the 
first  streaks  and  rays  of  celestial  glory  stream  through  the 
penitent  soul  while  it  is  leaving  the  body.  It  has  a  keener 
sense  of  holy  enjoyment,  calmer  peace  pervades  it,  and  the 
endless  heaven  is  begun.  It  feels,  in  the  phrase  of  Leigh- 
ton,  that  "the  Eternal  is  now  the  internal,"  that  the 
glorious  God  is  its  strength  and  portion,  and  that  the  in- 
finite heart  of  God  is  its  home.  It  has  discovered  "  the 
beauty  and  excellency  of  foi'giveness — as  it  is  with  God, 
as  it  is  in  his  gracious  heart,  in  his  eternal  purpose,  in  the 
blood  of  Christ,  and  in  the  promise  of  the  gospel."  It  has 
no  fear,  and  no  wants  unsupplied.  With  calmness,  or  witli 
rapture,  it  commends  itself  into  the  hands  of  its  God  and 
Redeemer,  and  "  flights  of  angels  sing  it  to  its  rest "  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Father. 

To  Christian  believers,  this  subject  is  full  of  salutary  in- 
struction. If  God  really  is  our  strength,  we  should  not 
look  with  fear  and  anxiety  into  eternity,  and  we  should 
not  be  unhappy  here  in  time.  It  urges  us,  therefore,  to  a 
careful  examination  that  we  may  know  where  our  strength 
actually  lies.  And  we  need  not  seek  long  for  this  knowl- 
edge. The  current  of  our  thoughts  and  afFections,  if  God 
is  our  portion,  will  become  daily  a  stronger  flood.  We 
shall  live  as  strauigors  and  pilgrims,  looking  for  a  better 
country.  Our  b.Q^rts  will  not  rest  in  houses,  or  lands,  or 
5. 


98  GOD   THE   STRENGTH   OF   MAN. 

honor,  or  friends,  as  their  firmest  resting-place,  but  in  the 
living  God.  AVe  shall  die  daily  to  the  power  of  earthly- 
things,  and  live  unto  Christ.  We  shall  be  gradually 
weaned  from  earth,  and  with  more  earnest  desires  look 
for  heaven.  We  shall  enjoy  this  life  with  chastened  and 
sober  pleasure,  but  our  transport  and  exultation  will  be 
awakened  by  the  "power  of  an  endless  life,"  by  the  love 
and  glory  of  God. 


SEKMON  YII. 

THE  GLORIFICATION  OF  GOD. 


Isaiah  xlii.  8. — "  I  am  the  Lord;  that  is  my  name:  and  my  glory 
will  I  not  give  to  another,  neither  my  praise  to  graven  images. " 


The  name  of  a  thing,  provided  it  is  a  true  and  adequate 
one,  denotes  the  essential  nature  of  that  thing.  Wlien  a 
chemist  has  discovered  a  new  substance,  he  is,  of  course, 
compelled  to  invent  a  new  name  for  it ;  and  he  seeks  a 
term  that  will  indicate  its  distinctive  properties.  When, 
for  instance,  that  gas  which  illuminates  our  streets  and 
dwellings  was  first  discovered,  it  was  supposed  to  be  the 
constituent  matter  of  heat,  and  the  name  phlogiston  was 
given  to  it — a  name  that  signifies  inflammability.  But 
when  Cavendish  afterwards  more  carefully  analyzed  its 
nature  and  properties,  and  discovered  that  it  enters  very 
largely  into  the  production  of  water,  it  received  the  name 
of  hydrogen.  In  each  of  these  instances  the  term  was  in- 
tended to  denote  the  intrinsic  nature  and  properties  of  the 
tiling.  We  are  informed,  in  the  second  chapter  of  Genesis, 
that  when  the  Lord  God  had  formed  every  beast  of  the 
field,  and  every  fowl  of  the  air,  "  He  brought  them  unto 
Adam  to  see  what  he  would  call  them ;  and  whatsoever 
Adam  called  every  living  creature,  that  was  the  name 
thereof.  And  Adam  gave  names  to  all  cattle,  and  to  the 
fowl  of  the  air,  and  to  every  beast  of  the  field."    This  was 


100  THE   GLORIFICATION   OF   GOD. 

before  the  apostasy  of  man,  when  the  human  mind  pos- 
sessed an  intuition  of  both  human  and  divine  things  that 
was  superior  to  its  subsequent  knowledge;  and  hence 
those  original  denominations  which  Adam  gave  to  the 
objects  of  nature  were  expressive  of  their  interior  and  es- 
sential characteristics.  Aristotle  began  the  investigation 
of  natural  history,  and  his  successors,  for  two  thousand 
years,  have  diligently  followed  up  the  line  of  investigation ; 
but  that  ethereal  vision  of  the  unf  alien  and  sinless  creature 
who  had  just  come  from  the  plastic  hand  of  the  Creator, 
and  who  possessed  the  unmutilated  and  perfect  image  of 
the  Deity,  penetrated  further  into  the  arcana  of  nature  than 
have  the  toilsome  investigations  of  his  dim-eyed  posterity. 
That  nomenclature  which  Adam  originated  at  the  express 
command  of  God,  and  which  the  pen  of  inspiration  has 
recorded  as  a  fact,  though  it  has  not  specified  it  in  detail, 
must  have  been  pertinent  and  exhaustive.  The  names 
were  the  things,  the  natures,  themselves.' 

God  also  has  a  name — not  given  to  him  by  Adam, 
or  any  finite  creature,  but  self-uttered,  and  self-imposed. 
"When  Moses,  in  Mount  Horeb,  after  the  vision  of  the 
flaming  bush,  said  unto  God  :  "Behold,  when  I  come  unto 
the  children  of  Israel,  and  shall  say  unto  them,  the  God 
of  your  fathers  hath  sent  me  unto  you ;  and  they  shall  say 
unto  me.  What  is  his  name  ?  what  shall  I  say  unto  them  ? " 
the  reply  of  God  was  :  "  I  am  that  I  am  :  and  thus  shalt 
thou  say  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  I  am  hath  sent  me 
unto  you."  The  denomination  which  God  prefers  for 
himself,  the  name  which  he  chooses  before  all  others  as 
indicative  of  his  nature,  is  I  am,  or  its  equivalent,  Jehovah. 
Whenever  the  word  Jehovah  is  employed  in  the  Old  Tes- 

'  Plato  (Cratylus,  390)  represents  Socrates  as  saying  that  ' '  the  right 
imposition  of  names  is  no  easy  matter,  and  belongs  not  to  any  and  every- 
body, but  only  to  him  who  has  an  insight  into  the  nature  of  things." 


THE  GLORIFICATION   OF   GOD.  101 

tament  as  the  proper  name  of  God,  it  announces  the  same 
doctrine  of  his  necessary  existence  that  was  taught  to  Moses 
when  he  was  commanded  to  say  to  his  people  that  I  am  had 
sent  him  unto  them.  The  English  name  for  the  Deity,  our 
word  God,  indicates  that  he  is  good — making  prominent  a 
moral  quality.  The  Greek  and  Latin  world  employed  a 
term  (^eo<?,  deus)  that  lays  emphasis  upon  that  characteristic 
of  the  Deity  whereby  he  orders  and  governs  the  universe.' 
According  to  the  Greek  and  Roman  conception,  God  is 
the  imperial  Being  who  arranges  and  rules.  But  the 
Hebrew,  divinely  instructed  upon  this  subject,  chose  a 
term  which  refers  not  to  any  particular  attribute  or  quality, 
but  to  the  very  being  and  essence  of  God,  and  teaches  the 
world  that  God  must  be — that  he  not  only  exists,  but  can- 
not logically  be  conceived  of  as  non-existent.' 

This  idea  comes  up  in  the  text.  "  I  am  Jehovah  " — for 
so  it  stands  in  the  original  Hebrew — "  that  is  my  name  : 
and  my  glory  will  1  not  give  to  another,  neither  my  praise 
to  graven  images."  Here  the  Divine  Being  challenges 
glory  to  himself  upon  the  ground  of  his  very  nature  and 
being.  He  presents  an  exclusive  claim  to  be  supremely 
honored,  because  of  his  independent,  and  underived,  and 
necessary  existence.  If,  like  creatures,  he  had  once  begun 
to  exist,  or  if,  like  creatures,  he  could  be  conceived  of  as 
going  out  of  existence,  the  foundation  of  such  a  claim 
would  fall  away,  and  he  would  have  no  more  reason  to  ar- 
rogate supreme  honor  to  himself  than  the  angel  Gabriel, 
or  than  the  weakest  man  upon  earth.  But  before  the 
mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  he  had  formed  the 
earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting, 

*  This  etymology  is  given  by  Herodotus,  II.  52. 

'  A  being  respecting  whom  there  would  be  no  absurdity  in  saying  that 
once  he  did  not  exist,  or  that  he  will  cease  to  exist,  is  not  infinite,  but 
finite.     And  the  finite  is  not  God. 


102  THE   GLORIFICATION   OF   GOD. 

he  is  Jehovah — the  I  am — and  therefore  he  of  right  sum- 
mons the  whole  universe  into  his  temple,  and  demands 
from  them  the  ascription  of  blessing,  and  glory,  and  wis- 
dom, and  thanksgiving,  and  honor,  and  power,  and  might, 
forever  and  ever. 

The  text,  then,  leads  ns  to  raise  the  question  :  What  is 
it  to  glorify  God  ?  And  the  answer  to  it  should  certainly 
have  interest  for  us,  not  only  upon  those  general  grounds 
which  concern  all  men,  but  because  we  hold  a  creed  which 
opens  with  the  affirmation,  that  it  "is  man's  chief  end  to 
glorify  God,  and  enjoy  him  forever." 

I.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  implied  in  glorifying  God,  that 
we  think  of  him,  and  recognize  his  existence.  "  The  duty 
required  in  the  first  commandment,"  says  the  Larger  Cat- 
echism (104),  "  is  to  worship  and  glorify  God,  by  thinking, 
meditating  upon,  and  remembering  him." 

!No  higher  dishonor  can  be  done  to  any  being,  than  to 
forget  and  ignore  him.  In  common  life,  if  a  man  wishes 
to  express  the  highest  degree  of  contempt  for  a  fellow- 
creature,  he  says  :  "  I  never  think  of  him  ;  I  do  not  recog- 
nize his  existence."  But  this  is  the  habitual  and  common 
attitude  of  man's  mind  toward  the  Everlasting  God. 
This  Great  Being  who  exists  of  necessity,  and  who  is  the 
Creator  and  Preserver  of  all  other  beings,  is  ignored '  by 
the  world  at  large.  God  is  not  in  their  thoughts,  and 
practically  he  is  reduced  to  nonentity.  For  so  long  as  we 
do  not  think  of  an  object  or  a  being,  so  long  as  we 
do  not  recognize  its  existence,  it  possesses  none  for  our 
minds.     Before  Columbus  discovered  America,  it  could 

'  This  word  does  not  denote  absolute  ignorance,  but  the  neglect  to 
use  knowledge.  "If  there  be  any  nations  that  worship  not  God,  they 
consist  of  brute  and  irrational  barbarians  who  may  be  supposed  rather  to 
igrwre  the  being  of  God,  than  to  deny  it."  Boyle,  quoted  by  Richard- 
son in  wee. 


THE   GLORIFICATION   OF   GOD.  103 

not  be  an  object  of  reflection  for  the  people  of  Europe 
and  Asia,  and  therefore,  in  relation  to  the  Old  World, 
America  had  no  existence.  It  had  existence  for  God,  and 
for  higher  intelligences.  The  sons  of  God  knew  of  it,  and 
shouted  for  joy  over  it  as  a  part  of  that  glorious  world 
which  rounded  to  their  view  upon  the  morning  of  creation. 
But  until  the  bold  Genoese  navigator  revealed  it  to  the 
ken,  to  the  thought,  of  Europe,  it  was  a  nonentity  for 
Europe.  The  whole  continent,  with  its  vast  mountain- 
ranges,  and  great  rivers,  and  boundless  plains,  had  scarcely 
the  substance  of  a  dream  for  the  people  of  the  Eastern 
world. 

And  just  so  is  it  in  respect  to  the  existence  of  God. 
He  verily  is,  and  fills  immensity  with  his  presence ;  but 
how  few  of  the  children  of  men  are  constantly  and  habit- 
ually aware  of  it.  How  few  of  them  are  busied  with 
thinking  about  him.  How  few  of  them  make  him  real  to 
their  minds  by  meditating  upon  his  being  and  attributes. 
Can  you  not  recall  some  day  in  which  you  did  not  once 
think  of  your  Creator  and  Judge  ;  in  which,  therefore, 
you  wholly  ignored  his  existence  ;  in  which,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  he  was  a  nonentity  ?  So  far  as  you  could 
do  it,  you,  on  that  day,  annihilated  the  Deit3\  The 
same  spirit,  if  united  with  the  adequate  power,  would  not 
only  have  dethroned  God,  but  would  have  exterminated 
him. 

And  it  does  not  relieve  the  matter  to  say  that  this  is 
mere  passive  forgetfulness,  and  that  there  is  no  deliberate 
effort  to  do  dishonor  to  God.  This  passive  forgetfulness 
itself  is  the  highest  kind  of  indignity  ;  and  is  so  repre- 
sented in  the  Scriptures.  "  The  wicked  shall  be  turned 
into  hell,  and  all  the  nations  that  forget  God.  Now  con- 
sider this,  ye  that  forget  God,  lest  I  tear  you  in  pieces, 
and  there  be  none  to  deliver."     This  is  fearful  language, 


104  THE   GLOEIFICATION   OF   GOD. 

and  therefore  the  sin  against  which  it  is  levelled  must  be 
great.  And  when  we  come  to  examine  it  we  perceive 
that  it  is.  For  this  unthinking  forgetf ulness  of  the  great- 
est and  most  glorious  Being  in  the  universe  betokens  an 
utter  unconcern  towards  him.  It  implies  an  apathy  so 
deep,  and  so  uniform,  that  the  being  and  attributes  of  God 
make  no  kind  of  impression.  When  a  proud  nobleman 
passes  by  a  peasant  without  bestowing  a  thought  upon 
him,  without  noticing  his  presence  in  the  least,  we  do  not 
attribute  this  to  any  deliberate  intention,  any  direct  effort, 
to  put  an  indignity  upon  an  inferior.  It  is  the  uncon- 
scious dishonor,  the  passive  forgetful n ess,  the  silent  con- 
tempt, which  arises  from  an  utter  indifference  and  apathy 
towards  the  person.  And  such  is  the  kind  of  indignity  of 
which  man  is  guilty  in  not  thinking  of  God  ;  in  forgetting 
that  there  is  any  such  being. 

]^ow,  whoever  would  glorify  God  must  begin  by  rever- 
sing all  this.  God  must  be  in  all  his  thoughts.  He  must 
recognize,  habitually  and  spontaneously,  the  existence  of 
his  Creator  and  Judge.  God  must  become  as  real  to  him 
as  the  sun  in  the  heavens.  The  idea  of  the  Deity  must 
swallow  up  all  other  ideas,  and  dominate  over  them. 
"Wherever  he  goes,  the  thought  must  be  ever  present 
to  his  mind  :  "  Thou  God  seest  me."  Instead  of  this 
spontaneous  forgetfulness,  there  must  be  a  spontaneous 
remembrance  of  him.  God  must  constantly  impress 
himself  upon  the  mind.  Some  of  the  early  Christian 
fathers  were  fond  of  speaking  of  the  Deity  as  "  impinging  " 
himself  upon  the  human  soul — as  if  he  were  some  great 
body  or  mass  that  loomed  up,  and  forced  himself  down 
upon  the  attention  and  notice  of  men.  And  such  must  be 
the  relation  between  man  and  God,  before  God  can  be  glori- 
fied. The  first  step  towards  the  greatest  of  human  duties, 
the  first  step  towards  the  chief  end  of  man,  cannot  be  taken, 


^    .y.v/-<^     THE   GLOEIFICATION   OF   GOD.  105 

until  the  creature  begins  to  think  habitually  of  God,  and 
to  recognize  his  eternal  power  and  godhead.  Ko  man 
has  made  even  a  beginning  in  religion,  until  he  has  said, 
reverently,  and  feeling  the  truth  of  what  he  says  :  "  Thou 
art  Jehovah,  the  Great  I  am  ;  that  is  thy  name  and  thy 
nature  ;  and  thy  glory  thou  wilt  not  give  to  another, 
neither  thy  praise  to  graven  images." 

II.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  implied  in  glorifying  God, 
that  we  think  of  him  as  the  Jirst  cause  and  last  end  of  all 
things. 

Here  again,  as  in  the  preceding  instance,  we  can  arrive 
at  the  truth  by  the  way  of  contrast ;  by  considering  what 
is  the  common  course  of  man's  thought  and  feeling.  Man 
-naturally  thinks  of  himself  as  the  chief  cause,  and  the 
final  end.  The  charge  which  the  apostle  Paul  makes  -  ^^v'- 
against  the  apostate  world  is,  that  they  worship  and  serve  'S^-^^ 
j  I    the'  creature  more  than  the  Creator.     And  the  particular  ^ 

creature  which  every  sinful  man  worships  and  serves  more   ^^ 

than  the  Creator,  is  himself.     It  is  true  that  men  pay  re-     _, 
gard  to  their  fellow-men,  and  in  a  certain  degree  worship  sX-^ 
and  serve  them.     But  in  every  such  instance  it  will  be    ^; 
found,  upon  examination,  tliat  the  worship  and  the  ser-  ^  -^\. 
vice  is  only  a  means  to  an  end.     It  is  never  an  end.     A 
man,  for  example,  flatters,  and  perhaps  even  fawns  upon 
a  fellow-creature  who  is  high  in  station,  or  in  power,  or  in 
wealth.     But  it  is  only  in  order  to  derive  some  personal 
advantage  thereby.     The  worship  and  service  do  not  ul- 
timately terminate  upon  the  king  or  the  millionaire,  but 
upon  the  worshipper ;  upon  the  devotee  himself.     It  is 
not  for  anything  that  intrinsically  belongs  to  the  man  of 
power,  or  the  man  of  wealth,  that  the  honor  is  accorded 
to  him.     Could  the  same  personal  advantage  be  secured   <J^ 
by  showing  dishonor,  as  by  showing  honor,  the  selfish  sin- 
ful heart  of  man  would  "  whistle  "  both  nobles  and  kings 
5* 


106  THE  GLORIFICATION   OF   GOD. 

"  down   the  wind."      The   ultimate  idol  is  in   every  in- 
stance the  important  ego,  the  dear  self. 

It  is  snrprising  to  see,  and  no  man  sees  it  until  he  en- 
deavors to  get  rid  of  the  evil,  how  intensely  the  soul  of 
man  revolves  upon  itself,  and  how  difficult  it  is  to  desert 
itself  and  revolve  around  another.  You,  for  example, 
give  a  sum  of  money  to  a  poor  and  suffering  family.  The 
external  act — what  the  schoolman  would  denominate  the 
"matter"  of  the  act — is  good.  And  yonr  fellow-men, 
who  can  see  only  the  outward  appearance,  praise  you  as  an 
excellent  person.  But  let  us  look  into  the  heart,  and  see 
if  there  really  be  the  moral  excellence,  the  true  holiness 
before  God,  that  is  supposed.  When  the  gift  had  been 
bestowed,  did  you  not  begin  to  congratulate  yourself  upon 
what  you  had  done  ?  Did  not  the  left  hand  begin  to  know 
what  the  right  hand  had  been  doing  ?  In  other  words, 
did  not  pride  and  self -worship  begin  to  fill  the  heart,  and 
was  not  the  act,  so  far  as  the  iliward  nature  of  it — what 
the  same  schoolman  would  call  the  "  form  "  of  it — is  con- 
cerned, an  egotistical  one  ?  Did  you  not  worship  and 
serve  the  creature  more  than  the  Creator,  in  this  act — 
which  yet  was  one  of  the  best  that  you  ever  performed  ? 
Was  there  not  a  "  sin  "  in  this  "  holy  thing  ?  "  Did  not 
the  "  dead  fly  "  spoil  the  "  apothecaries'  ointment  ?  "  For 
if  the  inward  disposition  had  corresponded  entirely  to  the 
outward  act,  in  this  transaction ;  if  the  act  were  a  really 
holy  one ;  it  would  have  been  done  to  the  glory  of  God, 
and  there  would  not  have  been  a  particle  of  self- worship 
in  your  experience.  You  would  not  have  had  the  least 
proud  thought  of  self  in  the  affair,  but  would  have  hum- 
bly thought  only  of  God.  After  giving  the  gift,  you 
would  have  said  as  David  did  in  reference  to  the  gift 
which  he  and  the  people  of  Israel  had  made  to  God  in 
the  building  of  the  temple  :  "  But  who  am  I,  and  what  is 


THE   GLOEIFICATION   OF  GOD.  107 

my  people,  that  we  should  be  able  to  offer  so  -willingly, 
after  this  sort  ?  for  all  things  come  of  thee,  and  of  thine 
own  have  we  given  thee."  You  would  have  acknowledged 
that  it  is  God  who  gives  both  the  willingness  to  give,  and 
the  means  of  giving  ;  that  He  is  both  the  first  cause  and 
the  last  end  of  all  things.  But,  by  the  supposition,  you 
did  neither.  You  gave  the  sum  of  money  as  something 
which  your  intellect  and  hands  had  originated,  and  you 
took  the  merit  of  the  gift  to  yourself.  You  worshipped 
and  served  the  creature  more  than  the  Creator, 

This,  we  affirm,  is  the  natural,  spontaneous  bent  of  the 
human  heart.  The  Christian  confesses  it,  and  mourns 
over  the  relics  of  it  in  himself,  and  longs  for  the  time 
when  his  mixed  experience  shall  end,  and  all  these  linger- 
ing remnants  of  idolatry  shall  be  cleansed  away,  and  he 
shall  lose  himself  in  the  glory  of  God.  And  we  are  not 
afraid  to  submit  the  matter  to  the  testimony  and  judg- 
ment of  the  natural  man  himself.  'No  candid  person  will 
say  that  he  naturally  and  spontaneously  worships  and 
serves  his  Creator  more  than  he  does  the  creature — more 
than  he  does  himself.  No  truthful  man  will  deny  that 
his  first  thought  is  for  himself,  and  his  after-thought  is 
for  his  neighbor  and  his  Maker.  And  it  is  the  very  spon- 
taneousness  and  unconsciousness  of  the  selfishness  that 
proves  its  depth  and  inveteracy.  If  a  man  were  obliged 
to  summon  up  his  reflections  and  resolutions,  every  time 
that  he  worshipped  and  served  the  creature  more  than  the 
Creator ;  if  it  were  such  a  difficult  matter  for  him  to  be 
selfish  and  proud,  that  he  must  be  continually  thinking 
about  it,  and  contriving  how  he  could  compass  it ;  if  it 
cost  him  as  much  thought  and  eifort  to  glorify  himself  as 
it  does  to  glorify  God,  this  would  prove  that  the  egotism 
is  not  so  deep-rooted  and  total.  But  what  a  man  is  spon- 
taneously and  unconsciously,  that  he  is  in  the  very  roots 


108  THE   GLOEIFICATION"   OF   GOD. 

of  his  being;  that  he  is  intensely  and  entirely.  This 
very  naturalness  and  uniformity  with  which  every  unre- 
generate  man  makes  himself  his  own  centre,  and  termi- 
nates everything  there,  proves  that  this  disposition  is  not 
on  the  surface,  but  is  "  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart." 

]^ow,  whoever  would  glorify  God  must  reverse  all  this. 
In  the  first  place,  he  must  think  of  and  recognize  God  as 
the  first  cause  of  all  things.  If  he  possess  a  strong  intel- 
lect, or  a  cultivated  taste,  instead  of  attributing  them  to 
his  own  diligence  in  self-discipline  and  self-cultivation,  he 
must  trace  them  back  to  the  Author  of  his  intellectual 
constitution,  who  not  only  gave  him  all  his  original  en- 
dowments, but  has  enabled  him  to  be  diligent  in  the  use 
and  discipline  of  them.  If  he  possess  great  wealth,  instead 
of  saying  in  his  heart :  "  My  hand  and  brain  have  gotten 
me  this,"  he  should  acknowledge  the  Providence  that  has 
favored  his  plans  and  enterprises,  and  without  which  his 
enterprises,  like  those  of  many  men  around  him,  would 
have  gone  awry,  and  utterly  failed.  In  brief,  whatever 
be  the  earthly  good  which  any  one  holds  in  his  possession, 
its  ultimate  origin  and  authorship  must  be  carried  back 
to  the  First  Cause  of  all  things.  Every  man  upon  earth 
should  continually  say  to  himself,  in  the  language  of  St. 
Paul,  "  What  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  receive  ?  Now 
if  thou  didst  receive  it,  why  dost  thou  glory  as  if  thou 
hadst  not  received  it  ? " 

And  this,  too,  must  become  the  natural  and  easy  action 
of  the  mind  and  heart,  in  order  perfectly  to  glorify  God. 
It  is  a  poor  and  lame  service  that  we  render  to  the  Most 
High,  when  we  do  it  by  an  after-thought.  If,  for  in- 
stance, when  I  have  performed  some  action,  or  made  some 
acquisition  that  is  creditable,  my  first  thought  is  a  proud 
one,  and  my  first  feeling  is  that  of  self-gratulation  ;  no 
second  thought,  no  after-feeling,  that  has  reference  to  God 


THE   GLORIFICATIOlSr   OF   GOD.  109 

can  be  a  high  and  perfect  homage.  The  very  first  thought, 
the  very  first  emotion,  should  have  terminated  upon  Him ; 
and  only  the  second  thought,  the  secondary  feeling,  should 
have  referred  to  myself — if,  indeed,  there  should  have  been 
any  such  reference  at  all.  If  man  were  as  holy  as  he  was 
by  creation  ;  if  he  stood  in  his  original  unf  alien  relation  ; 
the  very  firstlings  of  his  mind  and  heart  would  be  of- 
fered to  his  Maker.  But  as  matters  now  stand,  his  first 
instinctive  reference  is  always  to  his  own  power,  and  his 
own  agency.  And  even  when,  as  in  the  instance  of  the 
Christian,  there  is  an  endeavor  to  remedy  the  evil,  to 
correct  the  error ;  when  after  the  proud  feeling  of  self 
has  arisen,  the  believer  treads  it  down,  and  mourns  over 
it,  and  endeavors  to  acknowledge  God  as  the  first  cause  and 
author ;  how  imperfect  and  unworthy  is  the  homage  that 
is  rendered.  It  is  true  that  our  merciful  and  condescend- 
ing God  does  not  spurn  such  a  service  away,  but  sprinkles 
it  with  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  accepts  it  as  a  sweet - 
smelling  savor  in  Him ;  but  this  does  not  alter  the  fact 
that  this  is  not  the  absolute  and  perfect  homage  and  honor 
which  is  due  from  a  creature.  Suppose  that  the  seraphim 
and  cherubim  should  be  compelled  to  rectify  their  service ; 
suppose  that  for  an  instant  they  should  lose  sight  of  the 
transcending  glory  and  excellence  of  the  Creator,  and 
their  regards  should  drop  down  and  terminate  upon  them- 
selves as  the  authors  and  causes  of  their  own  excellences 
and  endowments ;  what  a  "  coming  short "  of  the  glory  of 
God  this  would  be !  'No,  it  is  the  directness  and  imme- 
diateness  of  the  heavenly  service  that  makes  it  a  perfect 
one.  Kot  even  the  thought  of  worshipping  and  serving 
themselves  enters  into  the  mind  of  those  pure  and  holy 
spirits  who  live  in  the  blaze,  the  unutterable  light  of  God. 
Again,  it  is  implied  in  glorifying  God,  that  we  recognize 
him  as  the  last  end  of  all  things.     Every  being  and  thing 


110  THE   GLORIFICATION   OF   GOD. 

must  have  a  final  end — a  terminus.  The  mineral  kingdom 
is  made  for  the  vegetable  kingdom ;  the  vegetable  king- 
dom is  made  for  the  animal  kingdom  ;  the  animal  kingdom 
is  made  for  man ;  and  all  of  them  together  are  made  for  God. 
Go  through  all  the  ranges  of  creation,  from  the  molecule 
of  matter  to  the  seraphim,  and  if  jou  ask  for  the  final 
purpose  of  its  creation,  the  reply  is,  the  glory  of  the 
Maker.  And  this  is  reasonable.  For  God  is  the  greatest 
and  most  important,  if  we  may  use  the  word  in  such  a 
connection,  of  all  beings.  That  which  justifies  man  in 
putting  the  dumb  animals  to  his  own  uses,  is  the  fact  that 
he  is  a  grander  creature  than  they  are.  That  which 
makes  the  inanimate  world  subservient  to  the  animate — 
that  which  subsidizes  the  elements  of  earth,  air,  and  water, 
and  makes  them  tributary  to  the  nourishment  and  growth 
of  the  beast  and  the  bird — is  the  fact  that  the  beast  and 
the  bird  are  of  a  higher  order  of  existence  than  earth,  air, 
and  water.  It  was  because  man  was  the  noblest,  the  most 
important,  of  all  the  creatures  that  God  placed  upon  this 
planet,  that  he  subordinated  them  all  to  him,  and  said  to 
him  in  the  original  patent  by  which  he  deeded  the  globe 
to  him :  "  Behold  I  have  given  you  every  herb  bearing 
seed  ;  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the 
fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  every  living  thing  that  moveth 
upon  the  earth." 

Now,  this  principle  holds  good  of  the  relation  between 
the  whole  creation  and  its  Creator.  He  is  a  higher  and 
greater  being  than  the  whole  created  universe.  The  mass 
of  his  being,  so  to  speak,  outweighs  all  other  masses.  He 
never  has  created,  he  never  can  create,  anything  equal  to 
himself  in  infinity  and  in  glory.  And  therefore  it  is  that 
he  is  the  final  end,  the  cause  of  causes,  the  absolute  ter- 
minus where  all  the  sweep  and  movement  of  creation  must 
come  to  a  rest.     It  is  an  objection  of  the  skeptic,  that  this 


THE   GLOEIFICATION   OF   GOD.  Ill 

perpetual  assertion  in  the  Scriptures  that  God  is  the  chief 
end  of  creation,  and  this  perpetual  demand  that  the  crea- 
ture glorif  J  him,  is  onlj  a  species  of  infinite  egotism ;  that 
in  making  the  whole  unlimited  universe  subservient  to  him 
and  his  purposes,  the  Deity  is  only  exhibiting  selfishness 
upon  an  immense  scale.  But  this  objection  overlooks  the 
fact  that  God  is  an  infinitely  greater  and  liigher  Being 
than  any  or  all  of  his  creatures ;  and  that  from  the  very 
nature  of  the  case  the  less  nmst  be  subordinated  to  the 
greater.  Is  it  egotism,  when  man  employs  in  his  service 
his  ox  or  his  ass  ?  Is  it  selfishness,  when  the  rose  or  the 
lily  takes  up  into  its  own  fabric  and  tissue  the  inanimate 
qualities  of  matter,  and  converts  the  dull  and  colorless  ele- 
ments of  the  clod  into  hues  and  odors,  into  beauty  and 
bloom  ?  There  would  be  egotism  in  the  procedure,  if  man 
were  of  no  higher  grade  of  existence  than  the  ox  or  the 
ass.  There  would  be  selfishness,  if  the  rose  and  the  lily 
were  upon  the  same  level  with  the  inanimate  elements  of 
matter.  But  the  greater  dignity  in  each  instance  justifies 
the  use  and  the  subordination.  And  so  it  is,  only  in  an 
infinitely  greater  degree,  in  the  case  when  the  whole  crea- 
tion is  subordinated  and  made  to  serve  and  glorify  the 
Creator.  The  distance  between  man  and  his  ox,  between 
the  lily  and  the  particle  of  moisture  which  it  imbibes,  is 
appreciable.  It  is  not  infinite.  But  the  distance  between 
God  and  the  highest  of  his  archangels  is  beyond  computa- 
tion. He  chargeth  his  angels  with  folly.  And  therefore 
upon  the  principle  that  the  less  must  serve  the  greater,  the 
lower  must  be  subordinate  to  the  higher,  it  is  right  and 
rational  that  "  every  creature  which  is  in  heaven,  and  on 
the  earth,  and  under  the  earth,  and  such  as  are  in  the  sea, 
and  all  that  are  in  them,  should  say,  Blessing,  and  honor, 
and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  Him  that  sitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb,  forever  and  ever." 


112  THE  GLOEIFICATION   OF   GOD. 

All  this  a  man  is  to  think  of  and  to  acknowledge,  if  he 
would  glorify  God.  This  must  be  his  spontaneous  habit 
of  mind,  as  natural  and  easy  to  him  as  his  present  selfish- 
ness and  pride,  before  he  can  mingle  in  that  celestial  com- 
pany who  stand  on  the  sea  of  glass,  and  have  the  harps  of 
God,  and  sing  the  song  saying,  "  Great  and  marvellous 
are  thy  works.  Lord  God  Almighty :  just  and  true  are  thy 
ways,  thou  King  of  Saints." 

1.  In  the  light  of  this  doctrine,  as  thus  far  expounded, 
we  see,  in  the  first  place,  the  need  of  the  regeneration  of 
the  human  soul.  It  is  difficult  to  convince  the  natural 
man  of  the  necessity  of  such  a  radical  change  as  the  Biblical 
theory  of  the  new  birth,  and  the  constant  reiterations  of 
the  pulpit  imply.  Testing  himself  by  the  statutes  of 
common  morality,  he  does  not  see  the  need  of  such  an 
entire  revolution  within  him.  But  how  stands  the  case, 
in  the  light  of  the  truth  which  we  have  been  discussing  ? 
Is  it  true  that  every  human  creature  ought  to  sustain  such 
an  adoring  attitude  towards  God  as  has  been  described  ? 
that  he  ought  habitually  to  think  of  him,  and  acknowledge 
him  as  the  first  cause  and  last  end  of  all  things,  and  honor 
him  as  such  ?  Is  it  true  that  it  is  man's  chief  end  to  glorify 
God,  and  that  no  man  can  be  released  from  the  obligation 
to  attain  the  chief  end  of  his  existence?  If  so,  then  is 
there  not  absolute  need  of  being  "  born  of  water  and  the 
Spirit  ? "  Look  into  the  existing  character  and  disposition 
and  see  how  strongly  and  totally  everything  terminates 
upon  self ;  how  even  religion  is  tinged  with  subtle  and 
selfish  references,  and  how  destitute  the  human  heart  is  of 
all  spontaneous  and  outgushing  desires  to  exalt  and  honor 
the  Creator ;  and  say  if  there  is  not  perishing  need  of  a 
new  heart  and  a  right  spirit.  All  spiritual  excellence  re- 
solves itself,  ultimately,  into  a  desire  to  render  unto  God 
the  glory  due  unto  his  name — into  a  desire  to  worship. 


THE  GLOEIFICATION   OF   GOD.  113 

Keligion  is  worship  ;  and  no  creature,  be  he  man  or  angel, 
who  is  destitute  of  a  worshipping  disposition,  is  religious. 
Morality,  or  the  practice  of  virtue,  is  only  the  shell  of  re- 
ligion. Keligion  itself,  in  its  pure,  simple  nature,  is  adora- 
tion— the  revering  praise  of  God.  The  shell  is  good  and 
needful  in  its  own  place  ;  but  it  can  never  be  a  substitute 
for  the  living  kernel  and  germ.  It  may  protect  it,  and 
shield  it,  and  adorn  it;  but  it  can  never  take  its  place. 
Try  yourself,  then,  by  this  test ;  search  and  see  what  is  the 
inclination  and  tendency  of  your  heart  in  this  particular, 
and  we  will  leave  it  for  you  to  say  whether  the  human 
heart  does  or  does  not  need  the  great  change  of  the  new 
birth ;  whether  any  man  can  see  the  kingdom  of  God 
without  it ;  whether  any  man  is  fit  to  enter  the  upper  tem- 
ple with  no  outgushing  homage,  adoration,  and  worship  in 
his  soul, 

2.  In  the  second  place,  we  see  in  the  light  of  this  subject 
why  the  individual  Christian  is  irrvperfectly  hlest  of  God. 
His  service  is  imperfect.  There  is  much  worship  of  self 
in  connection  with  his  worship  of  God.  How  many  of 
our  prayers  are  vitiated  by  unbelief;  but  unbelief  is  a 
species  of  dishonor  to  God.  It  is  a  distrust  of  his  power 
and  his  promise.  How  many  of  our  feelings,  even  our 
religious  feelings,  are  tinctured  with  selfishness;  but  just 
so  far  as  self  enters,  God  is  expelled.  The  Christian  ex- 
perience is  a  mixed  one.  It  lacks  the  purity,  and  sim- 
plicity, and  godly  sincerity  which  admit  but  one  object, 
and  that  is  the  Blessed  God  ;  but  one  absorbing  desire 
and  purpose,  and  that  is  to  glorify  him.  It  is  impossible, 
therefore,  in  this  condition  of  the  soul,  that  we  should  ex- 
perience the  perfection  of  religious  joy.  "  I  am  Jehovah," 
saith  God ;  "  that  is  my  name,  and  my  glory  will  I  not 
give  to  another."  God  will  not  share  homage  and  honor 
with  any  creature ;  and  therefore  it  is,  that  when  he  sees 


114  THE   GLOKIFICATION   OF   GOD. 

one  of  his  cliildren  still  lingering  about  self,  like  Lot's 
wife  about  Sodom — still  anxious  about  his  own  worldly 
interests  and  his  own  worldly  honor — he  does  not  com- 
municate the  entire  fulness  of  his  blessing  upon  him.  He 
hides  his  countenance  from  him  ;  he  keeps  back  many  of 
the  joys  of  his  salvation  ;  nay,  he  afflicts  him  and  disci- 
plines him,  until  he  learns  more  thoroughly  to  make  God 
the  sole  strength  and  portion  of  his  heart,  and  to  give 
unto  him  the  glory  due  unto  his  name. 

3.  And  thirdly,  this  subject  discloses  the  reason  of 
languid  vitality  in  the  Church,  and  its  slow  growth  in 
numbers  and  influence.  The  Christian  life  is  in  low  tone, 
because  the  Church  gives  glory  to  another  than  God.  We 
do  not  say,  and  we  do  not  believe,  that  the  Church  is  des- 
titute of  a  desire  to  acknowledge  God  as  the  first  cause 
and  last  end  of  all  things,  and  to  render  him  homage  and 
honor.  The  Church  of  the  living  God,  with  all  its  faults, 
is  "  the  pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth,"  and  is  dear  to 
him  as  the  apple  of  the  eye.  Nevertheless,  every  child  of 
God  will  confess  that  there  is  much  ambition,  and  vain 
glory,  and  creature-worship,  mingled  with  the  spiritualit3^ 
Grace  is  hindered  and  hampered  by  indwelling  sin.  The 
plans  and  purposes  of  God's  people  are  corrupted  and 
damaged  by  a  mixture  of  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the 
lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life.  In  connection  with 
their  dependence  upon  God,  they  depend  somewhat  upon 
the  arm  of  flesh.  They  rely  in  part  upon  theii-  zeal,  upon 
their  excellences  real  or  reputed,  upon  their  position  in  the 
eyes  of  men.  But  God  says  unto  his  Church  in  every 
age  and  place  :  "Not  by  might  nor  by  power,  but  by  my 
Spirit,"  are  believers  to  live  and  grow,  and  sinners  to  be 
converted.  "  Neither  he  that  planteth,  nor  he  that  water- 
eth,  is  anything,  but  God  that  giveth  the  increase.  The 
wisdom  of  this  world  is  foolishness  with  God  ;  therefore 


THE  GLORIFICATION   OF   GOD.  115 

let  no  flesli  glory  in  his  sight."  The  particular  point  to 
be  noticed  is,  that  this  mixture  of  self-love  and  self-wor- 
ship with  the  love  of  God,  and  the  worship  of  God,  must 
be  reduced  down  to  a  mininnun,  before  the  Church  will 
see  great  manifestations  of  the  Divine  presence.  In  the 
ordinary  state  of  the  Church,  there  is  too  mucli  of  it  to  ad- 
mit of  such  a  blessing.  When  the  people  of  God  become 
uncommonly  humble  and  self -abased ;  when  they  feel 
very  profoundly  that  their  covenant  God  is  the  Great  I 
AM,  and  that  he  will  neither  give  his  glory  to  another  nor 
share  it  with  another,  and  that  he  alone  will  be  exalted  in 
the  earth  ;  then  they  lie  low  in  the  dust  before  Him,  and 
cry  with  Daniel :  "  O  our  God,  hear  the  prayer  of  thy 
servants,  and  their  supplications,  and  cause  thy  face  to 
shine  upon  thy  sanctuary  that  is  desolate,  for  the  Lord's 
sake.  O  our  God,  incline  thine  ear  and  hear  ;  open  thine 
eyes  and  behold  our  desolations,  and  the  city  which  is  called 
by  thy  name :  for  we  do  not  present  our  supplications  be- 
fore thee  for  our  righteousness,  but  for  thy  great  mercies." 
This  is  a  prayer  in  which  the  creature  retreats  entirely, 
and  the  Creator  comes  solely  into  view.  Here  is  no  self- 
worship  and  vain  glory  ;  but  a  pure  outgushing  recogni- 
tion of  God  as  Jehovah,  the  Being  of  whom,  through 
whom,  and  to  whom,  are  all  things.  And  hence  the  imme- 
diateness  of  the  answer  which  that  prayer  received.  "For," 
says  the  prophet  himself,  "  whiles  I  was  speaking,  and 
praying,  and  confessing  my  sin  and  the  sin  of  my  people 
Israel,  and  presenting  my  supplication  before  the  Lord  my 
God  for  the  holy  mountain  of  my  God ;  yea,  lohiles  I  was 
speaking  in  prayer,  even  the  man  Gabriel,  whom  I  had 
seen  in  the  vision  at  the  beginning,  being  caused  to  fly 
swiftly,  touched  me  about  the  time  of  the  evening  obla- 
tion." 


SEKMON  VIII. 

THE  DUTY  OF  REFERENCE  TO  THE  DIVINE  WILL. 


James  iv.  13-15. — "Go  to  now,  ye  that  say,  To-day,  or  to-morrow, 
we  will  go  into  such  a  city,  and  continue  there  a  year,  and  buy  and  sell 
and  get  gain :  Whereas,  ye  know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow : 
For  what  is  your  life  ?  It  is  even  a  vapor,  that  appeareth  for  a  little 
time,  and  then  vanisheth  away.  For  that  ye  ought  to  say  :  If  the  Lord 
will,  we  shall  live,  and  do  this,  or  that. " 


The  movements  of  linman  society  are  like  those  of  the 
ocean ;  cahn  and  storm,  light  and  darkness,  level  surfaces 
and  mountain  billows,  succeed  each  other  in  swift  and 
sudden  contrast.  Human  life  like  a  wave  of  the  sea  is 
driven  of  the  wind  and  tossed.  Men  are  constantly  form- 
ing new  plans,  beginning  new  enterprises,  and  entering 
upon  new  and  uncertain  experiences.  Hence  it  behooves 
them  reverently  to  acknowledge  their  relation  to  the 
Almighty  Being  who  inhabits  eternity — their  Maker,  their 
Sovereign  Ruler,  their  Judge,  and  their  God.  From  amid 
the  vicissitudes  and  uncertainties  of  this  mortal  life,  it  is 
their  duty  and  privilege  to  look  up  to  Him  "  with  whom 
is  no  variableness  or  shadow  of  turning,"  that  He  may 
be  the  strength  of  their  heart  in  their  frailty  and  im- 
potence. As  the  years  of  time  lapse  one  after  another, 
dying  men  should  be  reminded  of  the  eternal  years  of 
God,  and  of  their  own  destination  to  another  world  and 
an  endless  life.     That  we  may  be  thus  impressed,  let  us 


REFEKENCE  TO   THE   DIVINE  WILL.  117 

attend  to  some  reflections  suggested  by  the  text,  relative 
to  the  duty  of  depeoidence  ujpon  God,  and  reference  to  Him, 
in  all  the  undertakings  and  experiences  of  life. 

I.  The  first  remark  suggested  by  the  words  of  St. 
James  is,  that  mankind  naturally  do  not  feel  and  acknowl- 
edge their  dependence  upon  their  Maker.  The  language 
of  the  natural  heart  is  that  which  is  rebuked  by  the  Apostle  : 
"  To-day,  or  to-morrow,  I  will  go  into  such  a  city,  and  con- 
tinue there  a  year,  and  buy  and  sell,  and  get  gain."  God 
is  not  spontaneously  in  the  thoughts  and  plans  of  men,  and 
human  enterprises  have  little  reference  to  the  sustaining 
and  controlling  power  of  the  Almighty.  Schleiermacher 
defined  the  essence  of  religion  to  be  the  sense  of  depend- 
ence upon  the  Infinite  Being.  Tried  by  this  test,  multi- 
tudes of  men  are  destitute  of  religion. 

We  shall  find  this  practical  atheism,  whether  we  scru- 
tinize the  narrow  life  of  the  individual,  or  the  broader 
life  of  the  nation  or  the  race.  How  rare  it  is  to  meet  a 
man  imbued  with  the  Old  Testament  spirit,  saying,  with 
Moses,  in  the  outset  of  every  undertaking,  "  If  thy  pres- 
ence go  not  with  me,  carry  me  not  up  hence."     How  few  , 

possess  the  spirit  of  the  patriarchs,  who  were  bold  as  lions  ^^^^^ 
provided  that  God  led  the  way,  but  timid  as  lambs  when 
they  could  not  see  his  footsteps.  Many  men  rely  upon 
second  causes,  and  never  fall  back  upon  the  great  First 
Cause.  They  calculate  upon  a  long  life,  because  they  in- 
herit a  good  constitution  ;  they  fear  an  early  death,  be- 
cause their  frame  is  slender  ;  they  expect  a  successful  issue 
of  their  plans,  because  they  are  regarded  by  others  as 
shrewd  and  far-reaching  men.  In  each  of  these  instances, 
the  dependence  is  placed  upon  something  this  side  of  God. 
The  mind  does  not  penetrate  beyond  all  secondary  causes 
and  agencies,  and  say,  when  "  He  taketh  away  our  breath 
we  die,"  and  "  Except  the  Lrn'd  build  the  house  they  labor 


118  DUTY   OF   EEFEEENCE 

in  vain  that  build  it :  Except  the  Lou'd  keep  the  city  the 
watchman  waketh  but  in  vain."  How  few  are  in  the 
habit  of  looking  to  God  that  they  may  be  assisted  and 
guided.  Many  men  live  as  if  there  were  no  presiding 
mind  in  the  universe ;  as  if  all  the  actions  of  mankind, 
and  all  the  events  of  earth,  were  but  the  chance  move- 
ments of  an  endless  series  controlled  by  no  overruling 
power.  If  we  should  translate  human  conduct  into  words, 
would  it  not  say:  "All  things  are  moving  on  aimless 
and  without  a  guide ;  I  will  cast  myself  upon  the  current 
and  trust  to  fortune  for  success.  I  am  not  a  steward,  and 
there  is  no  account  to  be  given  hereafter.  I  will  follow 
\\\<&  inclination  of  my  heart.  Time  is  all  and  everything. 
Earth  is  the  sum  and  substance.  Man  is  his  own  centre, 
and  ultimate  end.  I  will  look  only  to  myself  for  resources 
of  action,  and  will  depend  upon  my  own  right  arm  for  the 
accomplishment  of  my  purposes.  I  will  go  into  that  great 
and  prosperous  city,  and  continue  there  twenty  years,  and 
buy,  and  sell,  and  get  gain." 

Though  he  might  start  back  at  the  thought  of  deliber- 
ately uttering  such  language  as  this,  yet  does  not  every 
jprayerless  man  utter  the  substance  of  it  in  his  daily  and 
hourly  conduct?  And  there  are  millions  of  prayerless 
men  in  the  world.  Actions  are  louder  and  deeper-voiced 
than  words,  and  does  not  a  self-seeking,  self-reliant,  and 
prayerless  life  continually  say  to  Almighty  God,  "I  have 
no  need  of  thee  ?  "  As  we  look  back  over  the  past  years 
of  our  lives,  do  we  not  see  that  some  of  them  have  gone 
into  eternity  with  no  proper  sense  of  dependence  upon  our 
Creator  ?  Have  we  not  planned  and  executed,  toiled  and 
studied,  bought  and  sold,  without  any  filial  reference  to 
our  Maker  and  our  Maker's  will  ? 

And  what  is  true  of  the  individual  is  true  of  mankind 
at  large.     We  are  not  an  humble,  submissive,  and  trustful 


TO   THE  DIVINE   WILL.  119 

race  of  beings.  Though  created  in  the  image  of  God, 
and  living,  moving,  and  having  being  in  him,  mankind 
have  not  acknowledged  their  relationship,  and  have  not 
looked  up  to  the  Infinite  Euler  of  the  universe  for  guid- 
ance and  support.  There  is  no  fact  taught  by  the  history 
of  the  world  more  plain,  and  more  sad  to  a  right  mind, 
than  this.  The  nations  of  the  earth,  when  left  to  them- 
selves and  uninfluenced  by  the  truth  and  Spirit  of  God, 
have  uniformly  forgotten  the  Supreme  Governor,  and 
national  life,  like  that  of  the  individual,  has  not  been 
marked  by  a  humble  confidence  in  Him  before  whom 
"  the  nations  are  as  a  drop  of  a  bucket,  and  are  counted 
as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance."  Had  this  been  an  un- 
fallen  world,  and  had  righteousness  been  its  stability  and 
harmony,  it  would  in  all  ages,  with  one  heart  and  mind, 
have  acknowledged  its  enthe  dependence  upon  the  King 
of  kings.  The  universal  human  species,  like  the  angelic 
host,  would  have  looked  upwards  with  a  reverential  eye,  and 
sought  the  illumination  that  radiates  from  the  Father  of 
lights,  and  the  counsel  of  Him  who  cannot  err,  and  the 
strength  of  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent.  Such,  however, 
has  not  been  the  attitude  which  man  has  taken  before  his 
Maker.  He  has  founded  and  destroyed  empires  without 
a  single  glance  of  his  eye  upwards ;  he  has  enacted  laws 
and  abrogated  them  without  taking  counsel  of  the  Supreme 
Law-Giver  ;  he  has  gone  to  battle  without  reference  to  the 
will  of  the  God  of  Battles,  and  has  concluded  peace  with 
no  offering  of  thanks  to  the  Prince  of  Peace. 

The  thoughtful  and  Christian  reader  is  struck  with  the 
atheism  that  pervades  the  secular  history  of  man.  Look, 
for  example,  at  those  great  ancient  empires :  the  As- 
sjanan,  the  Macedonian,  and  the  Roman.  These  immense 
bodies  rose  slowly,  reached  their  culminating  point,  and 
declined  gradually  below  the  horizon,  without  any  refer- 


120  DUTY   OF   EEFEEENCE 

ence  to  the  living  and  true  God,  so  far  as  the  aims  and 
purposes  of  their  founders,  and  lieroes,  and  monarchs,  were 
concerned.  It  is  true  that  God  controlled  thera,  and  em- 
ployed them  for  his  own  wise  purposes,  and  so  he  does 
the  vast  masses  of  inanimate  and  unconscious  matter  that 
crowd  the  material  heavens.  But  what  cared  Ninus, 
Romulus,  and  Alexander  for  that  Being  who  sat  upon  the 
circle  of  the  earth  while  they  M^ere  prosecuting  their 
ambitious  designs,  and  who  has  since  judged  them,  these 
thousands  of  years,  according  to  the  deeds  done  in  the 
body  ?  The  conduct  of  Nebuchadnezzar  is  a  specimen  of 
the  conduct  of  the  kings  and  kingdoms  of  the  earth. 
"  The  king  walked  in  the  palace  of  the  kingdom  of 
Babylon,  and  spake  and  said.  Is  not  this  great  Babylon 
that  I  have  built  for  the  house  of  the  kingdom,  by  the 
might  of  my  power,  and  for  the  honor  of  my  majesty  ?  " 

11.  The  second  reflection  suggested  by  the  text  is,  that 
the  ignorance  ?i,n^  frailty  of  man  is  a  strong  reason  why 
he  should  feel  his  dependence  upon  his  Maker.  "  Ye 
know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow  :  for  what  is  your 
life  ?  It  is  even  a  vapor  that  appeareth  for  a  little  time, 
and  then  vanisheth  away." 

Man  is  a  very  ignorant  being.  Philosophers  are  dis- 
puting whether  the  human  mind  can  have  a  "positive" 
knowledge  of  the  Infinite  as  well  as  of  the  Finite.  In 
the  discussion,  a  positive  perception  is  sometimes  con- 
founded with  an  exhaustive  and  perfect  one.  It  is  as- 
sumed that  man's  knowledge  of  the  Finite  is  exhaustive 
and  perfect,  and  the  conclusion  follows  that  his  knowledge 
of  the  Infinite  must  be  different.  But  man  has  no  ex- 
haustive and  perfect  understanding  of  any  finite  thing. 
His  knowledge  in  this  direction,  too,  has  limits  as  much  as 
in  the  other.  The  blade  of  grass  which  he  picks  up  in  his 
fingers,  and  subjects  to  the  microscope  and  chemical  anal- 


TO   THE  DIVINE   WILL.  121 

ysis,  contains  an  ultimate  mystery  which  he  can  no  more 
completely  clear  up,  tlian  he  can  the  mystery  of  the  Divine 
eternity,  or  trinality.  For  the  constitution  of  the  small- 
est atom  of  matter  involves  such  baffling  questions  as, 
What  is  matter  ?  and,  How  is  it  created  from  nothing  ? 
In  reference,  then,  to  a  perfect  comprehension  that  ex- 
cludes all  mystery,  the  Finite  is  as  really  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  human  mind  as  the  Infinite.  In  relation  to 
both  of  them  alike,  we  may  concede  a  positive  and  valid 
apprehension,  but  not  an  exhaustive  and  perfect  one.  In 
respect  to  all  beings  and  things  alike,  be  they  finite  or  be 
they  infinite,  men  must  say,  "  "We  see  through  a  glass 
darkly,  and  we  know  in  part." 

Again,  man's  knowledge  is  limited  by  time,  as  well  as 
by  the  nature  of  objects.  His  knowledge  of  the  pres- 
ent is  imperfect,  and  he  has  no  knowledge  at  all  of  the 
future.  The  past  and  present  are  the  only  provinces 
into  which  he  can  enter.  The  future  is  an  inaccessible 
region,  and  he  can  know  nothing  of  it  until  the  provi- 
dence of  God  guides  him  slowly  into  its  secret  and  dark 
recesses.  The  morrow  is  separated  from  us  by  only  a  few 
hours,  and  yet  we  cannot  predict  with  absolute  certainty 
what  the  morrow  will  bring  forth,  any  more  than  what 
eternity  will  bring  forth.  If  by  knowledge  we  do  not 
mean  mere  probability,  but  absolute  certainty,  we  are  as 
ignorant  of  what  will  be  on  the  morrow,  as  we  are  of 
what  will  be  a  million  of  years  from  now.  Living  in  the 
sphere  of  change  and  experience,  we  ai"e  of  necessity  igno- 
rant of  all  that  time  has  not  brought  to  our  view.  We 
wait  in  order  to  know,  and  we  live  to  learn. 

But  God  is  in  eternity,  and  the  terms  past  and  future 

do  not  apply  to  his  existence.     There  is  no   succession 

of  events  in  his  omniscient  consciousness.     All  that  has 

been,   is  now,  and  ever  shall  be — the   whole   mass  and 

13 


122  DUTY   OF   REFEKENCE 

amount  of  all  history,  so  to  speak — is  constantly  before 
his  eye.  Hence  his  omniscience  is  a  fixed  quantity.  It 
is  a  cognition  that  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for- 
ever. It  undergoes  no  increase,  and  no  diminution. 
There  is  no  future  that  is  to  disclose  any  new  thing  to 
him  ;  and  there  is  no  past  out  of  Avhicli  his  memory  can 
bring  anything  forgotten  by  him.  That  part  of  our  ex- 
istence which  we  have  not  yet  lived,  is  now  as  well  known 
to  his  mind,  as  what  we  are  thinking  and  doing  this  very 
moment. 

It  is  not  so  with  our  knowledge.  We  have  forgotten 
much  that  we  once  knew.  It  is  probable,  that  in  some 
instances  more  has  been  lost  out  of  the  memory  than  the 
faculty  contains  at  any  one  time.  An  excursive  student 
ranging  from  his  youth  over  the  whole  field  of  knowledge, 
yet  having  an  unretentive  memor}'',  at  the  close  of  life 
is  not  in  conscious  possession  of  one-half  of  the  sum-total 
of  all  his  acquisitions.  The  past  is  thus  very  inadequately 
known  by  us.  The  present  glides  by  with  so  noiseless 
and  insensible  a  motion,  and  we  are  so  unreflecting,  that 
we  have  but  a  partial  knowledge  of  that.  It  is  before 
our  very  eyes  ;  yet  seeing,  we  see  not.  And  the  future  we 
do  not  know  at  all.  Verily,  man  is  of  yesterday,  and 
knows  nothing. 

Is  not  this  ignorance  of  ours  a  strong  reason  why  we 
should  rely  upon  the  all-knowing  God  ?  Though  we  know 
nothing  in  an  exhaustive  and  perfect  manner ;  though 
mystery  enwraps  us  like  a  cloud  ;  though  the  future  is  all 
uncertain,  and  we  cannot  even  conjecture  what  it  has  in 
store  for  us  ;  yet  we  are  not  shut  up  to  the  unhappiness 
that  would  result  from  such  a  sense  of  ignorance  if  unre- 
lieved by  other  considerations.  For  a  profound  conscious- 
ness of  human  ignorance,  taken  by  itself,  has  a  direct 
tendency  to  render  man  desponding  and  despairing.     This 


TO  THE  DIVINE   WILL.  123 

is  the  cause  of  the  misanthropy  and  atheism  which  too  often 
meet  us  in  the  world  of  letters.  The  enterprising  and 
self-confident  thinker  believed  that  he  could  speculate  his 
way  through  all  the  mystery,  and  attain  a  perfectly  clear 
understanding  and  mastery  of  the  problems  of  human  life. 
Baffled  and  repulsed  at  a  hundred  points,  he  became  the 
subject  of  an  awful  reaction,  and  sank  into  the  belief  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  truth,  and  no  such  being  as  God. 
But  there  is  no  need  of  this.  Trust  in  God's  wisdom, 
power,  and  goodness,  cheers  up  the  mind  in  these  hours 
when  the  immensity  and  complexity  of  the  universe  is 
weighing  upon  it.  Every  man  may  say :  "  It  is  true  that 
I  am  a  being  of  limited  powers.  The  ultimate  essence  of 
everything  is  beyond  my  ken,  and  I  know  not  what  will 
be  on  the  morrow.  But  I  am  the  creature  of  the  great 
and  wise  God,  and  he  graciously  permits  me  to  take  hold 
of  his  strength,  and  to  ask  for  his  wisdom.  He  is  the 
Father  of  lights,  and  giveth  to  all  men  liberally,  and  up- 
braideth  not."  By  thus  resting  upon  God,  amidst  all  the 
ignorance  and  mutability  of  this  existence,  man  derives  to 
himself  some  of  the  calm  wisdom  and  immutability  of  the 
Eternal  One.  If  we  were  possessed  of  a  simple  and  con- 
stant trust  in  Jehovah,  our  little  life  would  repose  upon 
his  unchangeable  existence,  and  would  be  embosomed  in  it. 
And  although  it  would  still  have  its  changes,  its  ignorance, 
and  its  motion,  yet  these  would  occur  in  a  region  where 
there  is  no  change,  and  in  which  there  is  perfect  security. 
Our  globe  has  its  complex  and  swift  motions,  but  the 
serene  and  ancient  heavens  contain  it  and  all  its  orbit.  Go 
where  it  may,  it  is  still  within  a  sphere  of  order  and  safety. 
It  can  never  get  beyond  the  reign  of  law.  That  immensity 
in  which  it  moves  is  the  dwelling-place  of  God,  and  "  He 
who  stretcheth  out  the  heavens  like  a  curtain,  who  layeth 
the  beams  of  his  chambers  in  the  waters,  and  maketh  the 


124  DUTY   OF  REFEEENCE 

clouds  his  chariots,"  will  impart  harmony  and  regularity 
to  all  its  movements.  In  like  manner,  if  man  would  con- 
sciously live,  move,  and  have  his  being  in  God,  he  would  be 
filled  with  a  glad  and  cheerful  sense  of  security,  firmness, 
and  power,  amidst  the  violent  and  rapid  changes  incident 
to  this  life,  and  the  dark  mystery  that  overhangs  it.  "  He 
that  trnsteth  in  the  Lord  shall  be  as  Mount  Zion,  that  can- 
not be  moved." 

Again,  the  brevity  and  uncertainty  of  human  life  is 
another  strong  reason  why  man  should  feel  his  dependence 
upon  God.  "  For  what  is  your  life  ?  It  is  even  a  vapor 
that  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  and  then  vanisheth  away." 
To  employ  the  language  of  the  Psalmist :  "  Men  are  as  a 
sleep :  in  the  morning  they  are  like  grass  which  groweth 
up.  In  the  morning  it  flourisheth  and  groweth  up :  in 
the  evening  it  is  cut  down  and  withereth."  The  longest 
life  here  in  time  seems  short,  and  there  is  no  one,  however 
his  years  may  have  been  lengthened  out,  who  will  not  say 
with  the  aged  Jacob  in  the  one  hundred  and  thirtieth  year 
of  his  age,  "  Feio  and  evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of 
my  life  been."  Any  length  of  life  upon  earth  must  appear 
brief  to  beings  who  like  man  were  made  to  live  in  eter- 
nity. If  our  years  were  prolonged  to  the  longevity  of  those 
who  lived  before  the  flood,  the  same  sense  of  their  brevity 
would  possess  us  upon  our  death-beds,  that  will  soon  fill 
our  souls  as  we  come  individually  to  lie  down  and  die. 
Nothing  but  a  fixed  and  unalterable  existence  can  be  free 
from  the  sensation  of  shortness  and  transitoriness. 

But  not  only  does  human  life  seein  short :  it  is  so  in 
reality.  It  has  the  transiency  of  the  morning  vapor, 
which  hangs  upon  the  edge  of  the  horizon  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  then  is  dissipated  by  the  wind  and  the  sun. 
In  thinking  of  human  life,  we  are  apt  to  think  of  the 
whole  life  of  the  entire  race  of  man.     The  millions  that 


'  '  ''  -^^v*,'/  1..     ,J^ 

TO   THE   DIVINE  WILL.  125 

have  walked  the  earth  for  six  thousand  years  become  a 
single  individual  for  us,  and  thus  we  are  not  so  vividly 
impressed  with  the  transiency  of  man's  existence  as  we 
are  when  a  friend  or  neighbor  is  struck  down  by  our 
side,  or  when  we  are  ourselves  summoned  to  die.  Yet 
every  individual  of  the  human  family  lived  only  his  brief 
hour,  was  occupied  with  only  his  few  personal  interests, 
and  then  dropped  a  solitary  unit  into  the  abyss  of  eter- 
nity. One  after  one,  for  six  thousand  years,  men  have 
been  living  short  lives,  and  the  aggregate  of  them  all  is 
not  a  second  of  time,  when  compared  with  that  endless 
dui-ation  which  is  the  residence  and  the  fixed  state  of  each. 
"  The  whole  time  of  the  world's  endurance,"  says  Leigh- 
ton,  "  is  as  but  one  instant  or  twinkling  of  an  eye,  betwixt ,  jt^ 
eternity  before  and  eternity  after."  What  then  is  man,-^^,,^ 
and  what  is  man's  life  ?  "  He  dwelleth  in  houses  of  clay ; 
his  foundation  is  in  the  dust ;  he  is  crushed  before  the 
moth  ;  he  is  destroyed  from  morning  to  evening;  he  per- 
isheth  for  ever,  without  any  regarding  it." 

III.  The  third  remark  suggested  by  the  text  is,  that  the 
proper  way  for  men  to  acknowledge  their  dependence  upon 
God  is  to  refer  to  his  will,  in  all  their  plans  and  under- 
takings. "  Ye  ought  to  say :  If  the  Lord  will,  we  shall 
live,  and  do  this  or  that." 

It  is  right  and  reasonable  that  the  will  of  God  should 
prevail  everywhere,  and  in  all  time.  The  will  of  some 
being  or  other  must  be  supreme  and  ultimate  ;  otherwise 
the  universe  would  be  a  theatre  of  contending  factions. 
The  old  doctrine  of  dualism  has  always  been  regarded  as 
uncommonly  irrational,  and  never  has  had  much  currency. 
That  there  should  be  two  eternal  wills  in  everlasting  con- 
flict has  appeared  so  very  absurd,  that  errorists  have  been 
much  more  ready  to  adopt  pantheism  than  dualism,  and 
to  absorb  all  wills  into  one.     The  chief  work  consequently 


126  DUTY   OF  EEFEEENCE 

for  a  creature  is,  to  subject  his  purposes  to  those  of  the 
one  Supreme  Will.  He  must  not  for  a  moment  suppose 
that  he  is  at  liberty  to  proceed  without  any  reference  to 
any  one  but  himself.  No  such  license  as  this  is  granted 
to  him.  It  may  be  wickedly  taken,  but  it  is  not  granted. 
Man  may  have  his  own  will  only  as  it  harmonizes  with  that 
of  God.  An  arbitrary  choice  is  not  conceded  to  any  sub- 
ject of  the  Divine  government.  By  the  law,  he  is  shut  to 
one  course,  and  one  only.  "Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart.  I  have  set  before  you  life  and 
death :  choose  lifeP  That  creature,  therefore,  be  he  angel 
or  man,  who  claims  the  right  to  do  as  he  pleases ;  to 
choose  either  life  or  death  ;  to  have  his  own  way  without 
reference  to  the  law  and  will  of  the  Creator,  sets  up  an 
unlawful  claim.  It  is  like  the  claim  w^hich  a  tyrant  sets 
up  to  arbitrary  power.  "He  have  arbitrary  power !  "—said 
Edmund  Burke,  in  reference  to  "Warren  Hastings — "  my 
lords,  the  East  India  company  have  not  arbitrary  power 
to  give  him ;  the  king  has  not  arbitrary  power  to  give 
him ;  your  lordships  have  not ;  nor  the  commons ;  nor 
the  whole  legislature.  We  have  no  arbitrary  power  to 
give,  because  arbitrary  power  is  a  thing  which  neither  any 
man  can  hold  nor  any  man  can  give.  No  man  can  law- 
fully govern  himself  according  to  his  own  w^ill.  We  are 
all  born  in  subjection  to  one  great  immutable  pre-existent 
law,  prior  to  all  our  devices,  and  prior  to  all  our  contriv- 
ances, parajnount  to  all  our  ideas,  and  all  our  sensations, 
antecedent  to  our  very  existence,  by  which  w^e  are  knit 
and  connected  in  the  eternal  frame  of  the  universe,  out  of 
which  we  cannot  stir."  Subjection  ,to  God's  will  is  not 
the  destruction  of  man's  voluntariness ;  but  if  it  were,  he 
would  be  obligated  to  come  under  it.  For  God's  suprema- 
cy is  of  more  consequence  than  any  attribute  of  a  creature, 
however  noble  and  precious  it  may  be  in  itself.     "  Let 


TO   THE  DIVINE   WILL.  127 

God  be  true,  and  every  man  a  liar !  "  cries  the  apostle  in 
his  inspired  zeal  for  God.  "  Let  God  be  supreme,  though 
all  finite  wills  should  be  annihilated." 

But  there  is  no  necessity  that  all  men  should  be  liars, 
in  order  to  save  the  veracitj''  of  God ;  and  there  is  no 
necessity  that  they  should  be  forced  to  obedience,  in  order 
to  save  his  supremacy.  Obedience  is  free  agency.  The 
self -subjection  of  ourselves  to  the  claims  and  plans  of 
God  is  one  of  the  freest,  most  genial,  most  joyful  acts 
of  which  we  are  conscious.  Most  of  our  misery,  nay,  all  of 
it,  arises  from  our  asserting  our  own  wills.  The  instant 
we  yield  the  point,  and  submit  to  our  Maker,  we  are  at 
rest.  And  this  is  proof  that  we  are  free ;  for  wherever 
there  is  any  compulsion,  there  is  dissatisfaction  and  rest- 
lessness. 

Man  must,  therefore,  in  his  plans  and  purposes,  refer 
first  of  all  to  the  Divine  Will.  His  prayer,  and  the  real 
desire  of  his  heart,  must  be :  "  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth, 
as  it  is  in  heaven."  This  is  the  way  in  which  he  best 
shows  his  dependence  upon  his  Maker.  If  he  does  not 
take  a  step  without  consulting  God,  and  would  not  for  the 
world  form  a  purpose  in  opposition  to  Him,  he  is  un- 
questionably a  submissive  and  reliant  creature.  He  is  also 
a  happy  one.  For  God's  will  is  the  only  firm  ground  to 
stand  upon.  All  events  occur  in  conformity  with  it,  and 
whoever  falls  in  with  it  is  truly  blessed.  It  is  a  remark 
of  Lord  Bacon,  that  if  man  would  rule  over  nature  he 
must  first  obey  nature ;  that  if  he  would  be  benefited  by 
the  great  laws  and  forces  of  the  material  world,  he  must 
live  and  work  in  conformity  with  these  laws ;  that  if  he 
attempts  to  resist  or  force  nature,  he  brings  failure  and 
ruin  upon  himself.  It  is  equally  true,  that  if  man  would 
obtain  happiness  and  peace  from  the  Divine  Government, 
he  must  conform  to  it.     If  he  opposes  and  resists  the  will 


128  EEFERENCE  TO   THE   DIVHSTE   WILL. 

of  God,  he  will  in  the  end  be  ground  to  powder  as  it 
moves  on  in  its  eternal,  irresistible,  and  wise  course.' 

Let  us,  then,  learn  to  say  in  all  the  circumstances  of  life : 
"If  the  Lord  will  we  shall  live,  and  do  this,  or  that."  It 
is  a  lesson  slowly  learned  by  proud  and  selfish  man. 
Oftentimes  it  must  be  beaten  into  him  by  repeated  blows 
from  a  severe  yet  kind  Providence.  If  such  blows  fall 
upon  us,  we  must  be  dumb  with  silence  because  it  is  God 
that  does  it,  and  because  we  need  it  for  our  soul's  good. 
But  by  a  wise  and  thoughtful  course,  we  may  preclude 
the  necessity  of  such  a  severe  process.  If  we  start  with 
the  doctrine  that  "  no  man  liveth  to  himself,  and  no  man 
dieth  to  himself ; "  if  we  fix  it  in  our  habits  of  thought 
that  we  are  creatures  of  God,  and  not  sovereigns  in  our 
own  right ;  if  we  work  upon  this  theory  of  human  life ; 
we  shall  be  likely  to  keep  ourselves  in  such  a  docile  and 
dependent  attitude  that  stern  methods  will  not  be  needed. 
But  even  if  severe  trials  should  come  upon  us,  we  shall  be 
the  better  prepared  to  bear  them,  and  we  shall  find  it 
easier  to  kiss  the  rod,  and  say,  "  Thy  will  O  God,  and  not 
mine,  be  done." 

'  "  The  Christian  mind  hath  still  one  eye  to  this,  above  the  hand  of 
man  and  all  inferior  causes :  it  looks  on  the  sovereign  will  of  God,  and 
sweetly  complies  with  that  in  all  things.  Neither  is  there  anything 
that  doth  more  powerfully  compose  and  quiet  the  mind  than  this.  It 
feels  itself  invincibly  firm  and  content,  when  it  hath  attained  this  self- 
resignation  to  the  vM,  of  Ood :  to  agree  to  that  in  every  thing.  This  is 
the  very  thing  wherein  tranquillity  of  spirit  lies.  It  is  no  riddle  nor 
hard  to  be  understood,  yet  few  attain  it.  And  what  is  gained  by  our 
reluctances  and  repinings,  but  pain  to  ourselves  ?  God  doth  what  he 
tcill,  whether  we  consent  or  not ;  our  disagreeing  doth  not  prevent  his 
purposes,  but  our  own  peace.  If  we  will  not  be  led,  we  are  drawn.  We 
must  suffer,  if  he  will ;  but  if  we  will  what  he  wills,  even  in  suffering, 
that  makes  it  sweet  and  easy  :  when  our  mind  goes  along  with  his,  and 
we  willingly  move  with  the  stream  of  his  providence." — Leightou :  On 
1  Pet.  iii.  17. 


SERMON  IX. 

THE  CREATURE  HAS  NO  ABSOLUTE  MERIT. 


LtJKE  xvii.  10. — "When  ye  shall  have  done  all  those  things  which 
are  commanded  you,  say,  We  are  unprofitable  servants  :  we  have  done 
that  which  it  was  our  duty  to  do." 


In  this  direction  which  our  Lord  gave  hia  apostles,  he 
announced  a  truth  that  is  exceedingly  comprehensive  and 
far-reaching.  It  involves  the  whole  subject  of  human 
agency  as  related  to  the  Divine.  It  throws  a  flood  of 
light  upon  the  question  whether  a  creature  can  perform 
good  works  in  his  own  strength,  and  thereby  bring  God 
under  obligation  to  him.  Though  a  simple  and  unmeta- 
physical  proposition,  though  so  plain  that  a  little  child  can 
understand  it,  this  instruction  of  Christ  to  his  disciples 
contains  the  key  to  the  whole  subject  of  human  merit.  It 
is  the  passage  of  Scripture  which,  perhaps  more  than  any 
other,  settles  the  dispute  between  the  Protestant  and  the 
Papist ;  between  the  advocate  of  grace  and  the  advocate 
of  works. 

Our  Lord  takes  the  ground  that  there  can  be  no  merit, 
in  the  absolute  meaning  of  the  word,  in  the  creature  be- 
fore the  Creator.  !No  man  can  perform  a  service  in  such 
an  independent,  unassisted  style  and  manner,  as  to  make 
God  his  debtor.  "Which  of  you,"  he  says,  "having  a 
servant  ploughing,  or  feeding  cattle,  will  say  unto  him 
6* 


130  THE   CREATUEE   HAS 

immediately,  when  he  is  come  from  the  field,  Go  and  sit 
down  to  meat  ?  and  will  not  rather  say  unto  him,  Make 
ready  wherewith  I  may  sup,  and  gird  thyself,  and  serve 
me,  till  I  have  eaten  and  drunken :  and  afterward  thou 
shalt  eat  and  drink.  Doth  he  thank  that  servant  because 
he  did  the  things  that  were  commanded  him  ?  I  think 
not.  So  likewise  ye,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  those 
things  which  are  commanded  you,  say.  We  are  unprofitable 
servants :  we  have  done  [only]  that  which  was  our  duty 
to  do."  The  force  of  this  illustration  will  not  be  com- 
pletely felt,  unless  we  call  to  mind  the  relation  which  an 
Oriental  servant  sustained  to  an  Oriental  master.  In  this 
Western  world,  where  democratic  ideas  prevail,  and  the 
extremes  of  human  society  are  brought  upon  a  level,  it 
would  not  be  regarded  as  singular,  if  a  servant,  in  return 
for  his  service,  should  be  addressed  with  the  courteous 
phrase:  "I  thank  3'ou."  But  in  that  despotic  Oriental 
world,  where  distinctions  were  carefully  kept  up,  and  the 
relation  of  the  servant  to  the  master  had  been  established 
from  time  immemorial,  and  no  one  thought  of  disputing 
it  or  of  overleaping  it,  it  would  have  seemed  singular  had 
the  master  expressed  his  thanks  for  services  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  whole  theory  and  structure  of  Eastern  society, 
were  rigorously  due  from  the  inferior  to  the  superior ;  and 
still  more,  if  he  had  proposed  to  exchange  places  with  his 
servant,  girding  himself  in  servile  apparel,  and  waiting 
upon  him  at  table.  Our  Lord  spoke  to  Orientals,  and 
all  his  illustrations,  nay,  even  his  cast  of  thought  and 
modes  of  speech,  issued  from  the  Oriental  intuition ;  and 
in  order,  therefore,  to  receive  their  full  impression,  we 
must  divest  ourselves  of  many  of  our  Occidental  ideas, 
and  merge  our  individuality  in  that  of  the  morning- 
land. 

The  servant  is  an  absolute  debtor  to  his  master,  and  his 


NO   ABSOLUTE   MEEIT.  131 

master  owes  him  nothing  for  his  service.  This  is  the 
theory  of  Oriental  society  and  civilization.  The  creature 
is  an  absolute  debtor  to  his  Creator,  and  his  Creator  comes 
under  no  obligations  to  him  by  anything  that  he  can  do. 
This  is  the  theory  of  morals  and  of  merit,  for  the  Orient 
and  the  Occident ;  for  the  angels  in  heaven  and  the  devils 
in  hell ;  for  the  whole  rational  universe  of  God,  We  find 
it  woven  into  the  whole  warp  and  woof  of  Revelation.  In 
the  very  twilight  of  the  Patriarchal  Church,  we  hear  Eli- 
phaz  the  Temanite  asking :  "  Can  a  man  be  profitable  unto 
God,  as  he  that  is  wise  may  be  profitable  unto  himself  ? 
Is  it  any  pleasure  to  the  Almighty  [any  addition  to  his  in- 
finite blessedness],  that  thou  art  righteous?  or  is  it  gain 
to  him  that  thou  makest  thy  ways  perfect  ? "  (Job  xxii. 
2,  3).  Elihu  repeats  the  thought  in  the  inquiry :  "  If 
thou  be  righteous,  what  givest  thou  him  ?  or  what  receiv- 
eth  he  of  thine  hand  ?  Thy  wickedness  may  hurt  a  man 
as  thou  art ;  and  thy  righteousness  may  profit  the  son  of 
man  "  (Job  xxxv.  Y,  8).  The  Psalmist,  bringing  to  mind 
the  independence  and  infinitude  of  God-,  feelingly  says  in 
reference  to  his  own  graces  and  virtues :  "  My  goodness 
extendeth  not  to  thee,  but  to  the  saints  that  are  in  the 
earth,  and  to  the  excellent  in  whom  is  all  my  delight " 
(Ps.  xvi.  2,  3).  St.  Paul  flings  out  his  voice  in  that  confi- 
dent and  challenging  tone  which  accompanies  the  percep- 
tion of  indisputable  truth,  and  asks :  "  Who  hath  first 
given  to  God,  that  it  should  be  recompensed  unto  him 
again  ?  For  of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to  him,  are  all 
things"  (Pom.  xi.  35,  36).  And  with  reference  to  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel  itself,  and  the  long  train  of  trials, 
and  sorrows,  and  sufferings  which  it  brought  with  it — even 
with  reference  to  that  wonderful  self-dedication  which  St. 
Paul  made  of  all  that  he  had  and  all  that  he  was,  that 
whole  burnt-offering  of  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  which  he 


182  THE   CREATURE   HAS 

offered  upon  tlie  altar  of  God — lie  says:  "For  though  I 
preach  the  gospel,  I  have  nothing  to  glory  of :  for  neces- 
sity is  laid  upon  me ;  yea,  woe  is  unto  me  if  I  preach  not 
the  gospel "  (1  Cor.  ix.  16).  From  beginning  to  end,  the 
teaching  of  Revelation  is,  that  when  the  creature  has  done 
his  whole  duty  perfectly  and  without  a  single  slip  or  fail- 
ure, if  he  boast,  it  must  not  be  in  the  presence  of  God. 
Before  creatures,  and  in  reference  to  creatures,  such  a 
perfection  might  challenge  admiration  and  lay  under 
bonds ;  but  not  before  the  Great  God  and  in  reference  to 
the  Supreme  Being.  "  If  Abraham  were  justified  by 
works,  he  hath  whereof  to  glory;  but  not  before  God" 
(Rom.  iv.  2). 

We  propose  to  mention  the  grounds  and  reasons  of  this. 
Why  must  every  man,  when  he  has  done  all  those  things 
which  are  commanded  him,  say,  in  reference  to  God,  "  I 
am  an  unprofitable  servant ;  I  have  only  done  that  which 
it  was  my  duty  to  do  ?'' 

I.  In  the  first  place,  he  must  so  say,  and  so  feel,  because 
he  is  a  created  being. 

If  a  man  originated  himself,  sustained  himself  in  exist- 
ence, arranged  and  controlled  all  his  circumstances,  and 
then  by  his  own  independent  power  should  perfectly 
obey  the  moral  law,  he  would  perform  a  service  for  which 
lie  could  demand  from  God  a  suitable  compensation. 
Having  out  of  his  own  resources,  and  without  any  assist- 
ance from  the  Supreme  Being,  rendered  unto  him  a 
perfect  character  and  a  perfect  life,  he  would  bring  the 
Supreme  Being  under  obligations  corresponding  to  the 
worth  and  worthiness  of  such  a  character  and  such  a  life. 
In  this  case,  man  and  God  would  stand  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  each  other  that  any  two  creatures  do ;  and  what- 
ever one  of  the  parties  should  do  in  accordance  with  the 
wish  or  will  of  the  other,  would  be  a  " profitable"  service, 


NO   ABSOLUTE  MEEIT.  133 

and  would  bring  the  other  nnder  bonds  to  him.  If  one 
man,  for  example,  complies  with  the  desii-e  of  another 
man,  and  performs  the  service  which  he  requests,  the 
latter  is  a  "  profitable  "  servant  to  the  former,  and  the 
former  nmst  "  thank  "  the  latter  for  it,  and  must  render 
him  an  equivalent,  unless  he  is  willing  to  be  under  con- 
tinual obligation  to  him.  And  this  for  the  reason  that 
men  in  relation  to  one  another  are  independent  agents. 
If  I  perform  a  service  for  a  fellow  creature,  he  is  not  up- 
liolding  me  in  existence,  ordering  and  controlling  all  my 
circumstances,  and  rendering  me  a  continual  assistance  at 
the  very  time  that  I  am  at  work  for  him.  He  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  my  origin,  my  continued  existence,  and  the 
conditions  under  which  I  live  and  act.  In  relation  to  him, 
I  am  an  independent  agent ;  and  therefore  what  I  do  for 
him  I  do  of  myself,  and  what  I  give  to  him  I  give  out  of 
my  own  resources ;  and  therefore  I  am  a  "  profitable " 
servant  to  him,  and  he  must  "  thank  "  me  for  what  I  have 
done,  and  for  what  I  have  given. 

But  this  is  not  the  state  of  the  case  between  man  and 
God.  He  made  us,  and  not  we  ourselves.  We  do  not 
sufficiently  consider  what  is  implied  in  the  stupendous 
fact  of  creation  from  nothing  ;  and  how  utterly  dependent 
a  creature  must  be  from  the  nature  of  the  case.  When 
an  artisan  manufactures  a  product  of  skill,  say  a  watch  or 
a  plough,  we  call  it  his,  because  he  fashioned  the  materials 
and  put  them  together.  A  watch  is  very  dependent  upon 
its  maker ;  and  we  cannot  conceive  of  its  bringing  the 
watchmaker  under  obligations,  or  in  any  manner  becoming 
a  "  profitable  "  servant  to  him  deserving  of  thanks.  But 
God  does  not  merely  fashion  materials  and  put  them 
together,  in  the  act  of  creation.  He  calls  the  very  ele- 
ments themselves  into  being  from  nonentity.  He  orig- 
inates the  creature  from  nothing,  by  a  miracle  of  onmip- 


134  THE   CREATURE  HAS 

otence.  How  then  can  a  creature  bring  the  Creator 
under  obhgations  ?  How  can  he  from  an  absolutely  in- 
dependent position  reach  out  to  God  a  product,  or  a 
service,  that  merits  the  thanks  of  the  Almighty  ?  The 
very  hand  by  which  he  reaches  out  the  gift  is  the  creation 
of  the  Being  to  whom  the  gift  is  offered.  The  very  soul 
and  body  that  stands  up  before  God  and  proposes  to  be- 
stow upon  him  a  gift,  is  itself  the  pure  make  of  God's 
sheer  fiat.  Its  very  being  is  due  to  his  omnipotent  power. 
The  prophet  Isaiah  asks :  "  Shall  the  axe  boast  itself 
against  him  that  heweth  therewith  ?  or  shall  the  saw 
magnify  itself  against  him  that  shaketh  it  ?  as  if  the  rod 
should  shake  itself  against  them  that  lift  it  up,  or  as  if 
the  staff  should  lift  itself,  as  if  it  were  no  wood "  (Is.  x. 
15).  Mere  dead  matter  cannot  exert  any  living  functions. 
The  saw  cannot  saw  the  sawyer.  The  axe  cannot  chop 
the  chopper.  They  are  lifeless  instruments  in  a  living 
hand,  and  must  move  as  they  are  moved.  It  is  im- 
possible that  by  any  independent  agency  of  their  own 
they  should  act  upon  man,  and  make  him  the  passive  sub- 
ject of  their  operations.  But  it  is  yet  more  impossible 
for  a  creature  to  establish  himself  upon  an  independent 
position  in  reference  to  the  Creator.  Every  atom  and 
element  in  his  body  and  soul  is  originated,  and  kept  in 
being,  by  the  steady  exertion  of  his  Maker's  power.  If 
this  were  relaxed  for  an  instant,  he  would  cease  to  be. 
Nothing,  therefore,  can  be  more  helpless  and  dependent 
than  a  creature ;  and  no  relation  so  throws  a  man  upon 
the  bare  power  and  support  of  God  as  the  creaturely  rela- 
tion. A  miracle  might  endow  the  saw  with  a  power  to 
saw  the  sawyer;  and  the  axe  with  a  power  to  cut  tlie 
cutter.  But  no  miracle  could  render  the  creature  self- 
existent  and  self-sustaining,  so  that  he  could  give  to  God 
something  strictly  from  and  of  himself ;  something  which 


NO  ABSOLUTE   MERIT.  135 

he  had  not  received ;  something  whereby  he  could  be 
"  profitable  "  to  God  and  merit  his  thanks. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  man  cannot  make  himself 
"  profitable "  unto  God,  and  lay  him  under  obligation, 
because  he  is  constantly  sustained  and  wpheld  by  God. 

"  O  Lord,"  says  the  Psalmist,  "  how  manifold  are  thy 
works !  in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all :  the  earth  is 
full  of  thy  glory.  So  is  this  great  and  wide  sea  wherein 
are  things  creeping  innumerable,  both  small  and  great 
beasts.  These  wait  all  upon  thee,  that  thou  mayest  give 
them  their  meat  in  due  season.  That  thou  givest  them, 
they  gather ;  thou  openest  thine  hand,  they  are  filled  with 
good.  Thou  hidest  thy  face,  they  are  troubled  ;  thou 
takest  away  their  breath,  they  die  and  return  to  their  dust. 
Thou  sendest  forth  thy  spirit,  they  are  created  ;  and  thou 
renewest  the  face  of  the  earth  "  (Ps.  civ.  24-30).  This  is 
an  accurate  and  beautiful  description  of  the  great  process 
that  is  continually  going  on  in  the  universe  of  God.  Crea- 
tion, preservation,  and,  when  it  pleases  Him,  destruction — 
these  are  the  functions  which  the  Supreme  Ruler  is  un- 
ceasingly exerting  in  his  boundless  kingdom.  The  same 
power  that  calls  the  creature  into  existence  from  nothing 
is  employed  in  keeping  him  in  existence.  It  requires  om- 
nipotence to  preserve  the  creature  and  provide  for  his 
constant  wants,  as  much  as  it  requires  omnipotence  to 
speak  it  into  being  in  the  outset ;  and  some  theologians 
have  therefore  defined  preservation  to  be  a  constant  crea- 
tion. The  divine  energy  that  produced  that  leviathan 
which  swims  the  ocean  stream  must  be  perpetually  exerted, 
in  order  that  he  may  not  fall  back  into  the  abyss  of  non- 
entity from  which  he  came.  Wherever  that  sea-monster 
goes ;  whether  he  rushes  league  after  league  through  the 
waters  of  the  Atlantic  or  Pacific  ;  whether  he  is  skimming 
the  seas  in  pursuit  of  his  food,  or  whether  like  Milton's 


136  THE  CEEATUEE  HAS 

Satan  he  lies  "prone  on  the  flood,  extended  long  and 
large,  floating  manj  a  rood  " — in  every  inch  of  space,  and 
at  every  point  of  time,  he  is  upheld  by  creative  power. 
And  so  it  is  with  the  billions  of  billions  of  creatures  of  all 
ranks  and  sizes,  that  crowd  the  material  universe.  Each 
and  every  one  of  them  is  just  as  truly  supported  as  if  a 
material  hand  were  placed  beneath  it,  and  we  could  see 
the  exertion  of  the  upholding  force.  "  The  young  lions 
roar  after  their  prey,  and  seek  their  meat  from  God." 

This  is  true  of  man.  He  goeth  forth  unto  his  work, 
and  to  his  labor  until  the  evening.  But  wherever  he  goes, 
and  whatever  he  does,  he  stands,  in  Banquo's  phrase,  in  the 
great  hand  of  God.  He  draws  every  breath  by  a  Divine 
volition ;  he  takes  every  step  by  a  Divine  permission  ;  he 
lives,  moves,  and  has  his  being  in  his  Creator.  What  an 
impression  would  this  truth  make  upon  us,  did  we  but 
comprehend  its  significance  and  realize  it.  Should  we  see 
a  superhuman  hand  suddenly  reach  down  from  the  sky, 
and  pick  up  a  sinking  sailor  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean 
from  the  engulfing  billows,  or  snatch  a  little  infant  from 
the  sea  of  flame  in  a  great  conflagration,  we  should  believe 
that  neither  of  them  saved  himself,  but  that  God  saved 
him.  We  should  understand  what  is  meant  by  preserva- 
tion by  the  hand  and  power  of  the  Almighty.  We  could 
not  refer  it  to  a  law  of  nature,  nor  to  the  operation  of 
chance.  By  the  supposition,  we  saw  the  very  hand  that 
grasped  the  sinking  sailor,  or  the  burning  infant,  and  no 
reasoning  whatever  could  deaden  the  impression  which 
that  miraculous  occurrence  would  make  upon  our  minds. 

Now,  similar  ought  to  be  the  impression  made  by  the 
whole  daily  course  of  Divine  Providence.  Though  con- 
stant and  unceasing ;  though  new  every  morning,  fresh 
every  evening,  and  repeated  every  moment ;  noiseless  as 
the  light,  and  ever-present  as  the  atmosphere ;  yet  if  man 


NO   ABSOLUTE   MERIT.  137 

were  what  he  should  be,  he  would  be  unceasingly  conscious 
of  God's  supporting  presence  and  power.  He  would  not, 
as  he  now  does,  place  something  between  God  and  his 
works  so  that  God  cannot  be  seen.  He  would  not  refer 
his  own  health,  strength,  wealth,  poverty,  sickness,  weak- 
ness, happiness,  sorrow,  to  the  operation  of  merely  natural 
causes,  but  ultimately  to  the  direct  will  and  power  of  his 
Maker.  He  would  say  and  feel  that  when  God  sends 
forth  his  spirit,  creatures  are  created  ;  and  that  when  he 
taketh  away  their  breath,  they  die  and  return  to  their  dust. 
This  is  the  Biblical  view  of  Divine  Providence.  In  the 
Bible  everything  is  very  close  to  God.  Not  only  the 
miracle,  but  the'  ordinary  occurrences  and  operations  of 
nature  are  referred  immediately  to  him.  God  thunders 
in  the  heavens.  God  lightens  along  the  sky.  "The 
voice  of  the  Lord  is  upon  the  waters:  the  God  of 
glory  thundereth  ;  the  Lord  is  upon  many  waters.  The 
voice  of  the  Lord  is  powerful ;  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
is  full  of  majesty.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  breaketh 
the  cedars"  (Ps.  xxix.  3-5).  This  is  the  inspired  de- 
scription of  an  ordinary  thunderstorm.  And  it  is  the 
truest  statement  that  can  be  made.  For  if  the  man  of 
science  tells  me  that  the  lightning  and  the  thunder  are  the 
result  of  electricty,  I  must  complete  his  statement  by  tell- 
ing him  that  electricty  itself  is  a  creation  of  God.  If 
he  tells  me  that  two  clouds,  each  charged  with  its  own 
positive  or  negative  electricity,  when  meeting  together 
produce  the  detonation  that  shakes  the  heavens  and  the 
earth,  I  must  add  to  his  explanation  the  still  further  state- 
ment, that  these  two  clouds,  and  everything  in  or  about 
them,  are  formed,  and  are  made  to  sail  together,  by  God's 
will.  By  everything  in  this  thunderstorm,  we  are  causally 
and  ultimately  carried  back  to  the  Divine  decision.  For 
why  should  the  two  clouds  meet  together  just  at  this  par- 


138  THE  CEEATURE  HAS 

ticular  moment,  and  not  a  half  hour  later  ?  Because  of 
the  will  of  Him  who  "  raaketli  a  decree  for  the  rain,  and 
a  way  for  the  lightning  of  the  thunder  "  (Job.  xxviii.  26). 
Why  at  any  spot  in  the  greensward  do  just  so  many  spires 
of  grass  shoot  up — no  more  and  no  fewer  ?  Because  of 
the  will  of  Him  who  numbers  the  hairs  of  the  human  head, 
and  makes  one  hair  black  and  another  white.' 

This,  we  say,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible  concerning  the 
preserving  and  sustaining  providence  of  God.  According 
to  the  Scriptures,  no  being  is  so  close  to  man,  and  so  close 
to  nature,  as  the  Author  of  man,  and  the  Author  of  nature. 
One  man  may  come  very  near  to  his  fellow  man.  He  may 
hear  his  words,  feel  his  breath,  touch  his  hand.  But  God 
is  nearer  to  him  than  this.  Every  man  is  very  close  to 
himself.  There  are  thoughts  and  emotions  which  no 
creature  knows  but  himself.  But  the  Searcher  of  the 
heart  is  closer  to  him  than  this.  The  forces  of  nature  are 
very  near  to  the  objects  of  the  natural  world.  The  prin- 
ciple of  vegetable  life  is  inside  of  the  tree  and  the  flower ; 
the  principle  of  gravitation  operates  within  the  mass  of 
rock  or  the  planetary  orb.  JSI^othing,  it  would  seem,  could 
be  nearer  to  nature  than  the  life  of  nature.  But  God  is 
nearer  than  this ;  because  he  is  the  maker  and  upholder 
of  these  very  invisible  principles,  and  this  very  indwelling 
life  itself. 

Keturning  now  to  the  course  of  our  argument,  we  say 
that  the  fact  that  man  is  so  utterly  and  wholly  dependent 
upon  the  immediate  presence  and  unceasing  support  of 
God,  renders  it  impossible  that  he  should  ever  bring  God 
under  bonds  to  him,  and  merit  his  thanks,  hy  anything 
that  lie  can  do.     He  is  a  receiver  at  every  point,  and  at 


'  Matter  is  destitute  of  self-motion,  and  therefore  cannot  be  eitlier  a 
prime  mover,  or  a  first  cause. 


NO  ABSOLUTE  MERIT.  139 

every  instant.  He  cannot  give  out  a  thing  that  has  not 
first  come  in  to  him.  "  What  hast  thon,"  says  St.  Paul, 
"  that  thou  hast  not  received  ?  "  There  is  therefore  no 
starting-point  in  the  attempt  of  man  to  be  a  "  profitable  " 
servant  unto  God,  and  to  merit  his  thanks.  He  cannot 
take  the  first  step.  Before  he  can  make  a  beginning,  he 
must  get  outside  of  the  providence  of  God ;  he  must  take 
his  stand  upon  some  position  where  he  is  no  longer  pre- 
served and  upheld  by  his  Creator.  So  long  as  he  occupies 
his  present  position,  and  all  his  powers  and  faculties  are 
maintained  in  existence  and  operation  by  the  power  of 
God,  so  long  he  owes  to  God  all  that  he  is,  and  all  that  he 
can  do  ;  and,  therefore,  when  he  has  done  all  things  that 
are  commanded  him,  there  must  not  be  the  faintest  rising 
of  pride  in  his  heart,  and  he  must  say,  "  I  am  an  unprofit- 
able servant,  I  have  done  [only]  that  which  it  was  my 
duty  to  do." 

HI.  In  the  third  place,  man  cannot  be  "  profitable  "  to 
God,  and  merit  his  thanks,  because  all  his  good  works  de- 
pend upon  the  operation  and  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Our  Lord's  doctrine  of  human  merit  is  cognate  with  the 
doctrine  of  Divine  grace. 

Says  the  prophet  Isaiah  :  "  Lord,  thou  wilt  ordain  peace 
for  us  :  for  thou  also  hast  wrought  all  our  works  in  us  " 
(Isaiah  xxvi.  12).  The  original  Hebrew  here  does  not  per- 
mit us  to  affirm  that  the  prophet  spake  these  words  pri- 
marily with  reference  to  spiritual  exercises.  He  had  in 
view  providential  dispensations;  the  protection  which 
God  had  granted  his  people  in  the  days  that  were  past,  and 
which  was  a  pledge  of  favor  in  the  future.'  At  the  same 
time,  however,  these  words  are  applicable  to  the  inward 
agency  of  God  in  the  human  soul,  and  they  have  been  so 

'  Alexander  :  On  Isaiah  xxvi.  13. 


140  THE  CREATUEE  HAS 

generally  applied  to  this  agency,  that  probably  this  is  the 
reference  that  comes  first  into  the  mind  of  the  mass  of 
readers.  This  text  is  understood  to  teach  the  same  that 
St.  Paul  teaches,  when  he  says  that  it  is  "  God  that  work- 
eth  in  us  to  will  and  to  do." 

Now,  we  find  in  the  fact  that  all  good  works  are  the 
product  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  human  heart,  a  strong 
reason  why  the  renewed  man,  though  a  faithful  servant,  is 
not  a  "  profitable  "  one.  It  is  because  God  works  all  our 
good  works  in  us,  that  after  we  have  done  all  things  which 
are  commanded  us,  we  must  say:  "We  are  unprofitable 
servants  ;  we  have  by  God's  grace  done  that  which  it  was 
our  duty  to  do." 

When  a  man  does  wrong,  he  receives  no  assistance  from 
God.  A  wicked  person  cannot  say,  "  By  the  grace  of  God 
I  am  what  I  am."  A  sinful  man  cannot  adopt  Paul's 
words  and  affirm,  "  I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in 
me."  Sin  in  all  its  forms,  be  it  original  or  actual,  be  it 
the  inclination  of  the  heart  or  the  single  act,  is  not  the 
product  of  God  "  working "  in  the  creature  "  to  Avill  and 
to  do."  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  self-willed  and  hostile 
action  on  the  part  of  man.  When  you  think  an  evil 
thought,  you  may  be  certain  that  your  Maker  did  not 
inspire  it  in  your  mind.  Wlien  your  heart  swells  with 
pride,  malice  or  envy,  you  may  know  infallibly  that  God 
did  not  infuse  it  into  your  heart.  When  your  will  is 
determined  to  selfish  and  disobedient  purposes,  it  is  im- 
possible that  the  Holy  Ghost  should  have  impulsed  such 
a  purpose.  No  sinful  creature  can  look  into  the  face  of 
his  Creator  and  say  with  Isaiah,  "  O  Lord,  thou  hast 
wrought  all  our  works  in  us."  Sin  is  differentiated  from 
holiness  by  this,  among  other  modes,  that  it  is  purely  the 
work  of  man.  God  is  not  the  author  of  sin.  It  is  true 
that  the  sinner  is  created  and  upheld  by  God,  as  entirely 


NO   ABSOLUTE   MERIT.  141 

as  is  the  saint.  In  respect  to  the  great  functions  of 
creation  and  providence,  all  mankind,  the  good  and  the 
bad,  stand  upon  the  same  level,  and  there  is  no  difference 
among  them.  But  when  we  pass  to  the  use  and  operation 
of  these  created  powers  and  faculties,  we  discover  a  heaven- 
wide  difference.  Some  men  lean  upon  God,  ask  for  his 
inward  presence  and  assistance,  and  in  reliance  upon  his 
grace,  think  their  thoughts,  form  their  purposes,  and  per- 
form their  actions.  They  work  good  works,  because  their 
deeds,  in  our  Savior's  phrase,  "  are  wrought  in  God." 
But  other  men,  and  at  present  they  are  the  majority,  think 
their  own  thoughts,  form  their  own  selfish  and  independent 
purposes,  and  perform  corresponding  outward  actions, 
with  no  reliance  upon  God's  assistance,  and  no  prayer  for 
his  indwelling  presence.  And  all  such  thoughts,  purposes, 
and  actions  are  evil.  You  cannot  define  sin  any  better  than 
to  say  that  it  is  the  creature's  sole  work ;  the  creature's 
self-will.  It  is  a  species  of  moral  agency  that  is  not  ex- 
ercised in  humble  dependence  upon  God,  but  in  opposition 
to  him.  It  is  an  attempt  to  be  wholly  independent  of  the 
Almighty.  The  sinner  works  his  own  wicked  works  with- 
out any  influence,  impulse,  or  assistance  from  his  holy 
Maker.  It  is  true,  that  in  the  very  act  of  sinning,  God 
sustains  in  existence  the  faculties  themselves — the  very 
mind,  the  very  heart,  the  very  will  by  which  the  sinner 
sins — but  he  does  not  prompt  the  wicked  thought  in  the 
mind;  he  does  not  produce  the  wicked  feeling  in  the 
heart ;  he  does  not  inspire  the  wicked  purpose  in  the  will. 
The  faculty  by  which  a  man  sins  is  created  and  every 
instant  upheld  by  the  Creator,  but  the  sinning  itself  is  the 
work  of  the  faculty  itself.  Hence,  sin  cannot  be  chai-ged 
upon  God.  We  cannot  impute  our  transgressions  to  him. 
But  it  is  not  so  with  holiness.  When  we  pass  over  to 
this  side,  and  consider  the  relation  which  God  sustains  to 


142  THE   CREATUEE  HAS 

righteousness,  we  find  that  he  is  not  only  the  creator  and 
preserver  of  our  powers  and  faculties,  but  he  also  influences, 
prompts,  inspires,  and  actuates  them.  He  does  not  merely 
create  a  human  will  and  maintain  it  in  existence,  and  then 
leave  it  to  itself  to  work  out  righteousness.  He  does  not 
dismiss  his  people  to  their  own  independent  and  unas- 
sisted efforts.  He  well  knows  how  weak  and  mutable 
the  strongest  human  will  is  in  reference  to  holiness ;  how 
liable  it  is  to  fall,  even  under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances, as  Adam  fell  in  paradise ;  and  how  constantly  it 
needs  his  almighty  power,  his  eternal  and  self-subsistent 
goodness,  to  rest  upon.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  while 
the  shame  and  guilt  of  sin  must  be  referred  to  the  creature 
always  and  alone,  the  glory  and  honor  of  holiness  must  be 
referred  to  the  Creator  always  and  alone.  When  I  have 
done  wrong,  I  must  say:  "I  am  the  guilty  author  of  this 
sin ;  to  me,  and  to  me  only,  does  the  guilt  and  condemna- 
tion attach."  But  when  I  have  done  right,  I  spontaneously 
cry :  "  O  Lord,  thou  hast  wrought  all  my  good  works  in 
me ;  the  glory  and  the  honor  of  this  righteousness  be- 
longeth  unto  thee.  Not  unto  man,  not  unto  the  creature, 
do  I  give  the  glory." 

Now,  is  it  not  plain  that  if  these  representations  are 
correct ;  if  this  is  the  relation  which  all  holiness  in  the 
creature  sustains  to  the  Creator ;  if  God  really  does  work 
in  every  good  man  or  good  angel  to  will  and  to  do ;  that 
man  or  that  angel  cannot  bring  God  under  obligations  to 
him  by  any  or  all  of  his  righteousness  ?  The  same  prin- 
ciple of  reasoning  applies  here  that  applies  in  the  case 
of  creation  and  providence.  Create  yourself  and  sustain 
yourself,  and  then  do  something  which  God  requires,  and 
you  become  a  "profitable"  servant.  Perform  a  single 
good  act  without  any  assistance  from  God  ;  think  a  single 
holy  thought,  feel  a  single  holy  emotion,  without  any  in- 


NO   ABSOLUTE   MERIT.  143 

flnence  or  impulse  fi'om  the  Holy  Comforter ;  and  then 
you  may  demand  a  reward  from  your  Sovereign  upon  the 
principle  of  abstract  right.  But  so  long  as  you  are  what 
you  are,  by  the  grace  of  God  ;  so  long  as  he  enables  you  to 
keep  his  commandments ;  say  unto  him  from  the  depths 
of  a  humble  and  a  filial  heart :  "  I  am  an  unprofitable 
servant.  1  have  done  that  which  it  was  my  duty  to  do  ; 
but  I  have  done  it  in  thy  strength,  and  by  thy  gracious 
assistance." 

The  subject  is  fertile  in  inferences  and  practical  conclu- 
sions, and  to  some  of  these  we  now  devote  the  remainder 
of  the  discourse. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  we  see  in  the  light  of  our  Lord's 
theory  of  human  merit,  why  it  is  impossible  for  a  crea- 
ture to  make  atoneinent  for  sin. 

There  are  only  two  classes  of  actions  possible  to  man. 
He  must  either  do  right  or  do  wrong.  That  the  perform- 
ance of  sinful  works  will  atone  for  sin,  has  never  entered 
the  head  of  the  wildest  visionary  that  ever  rejected  the 
evangelical  method  of  forgiveness,  and  invented  a  theory 
for  himself.  No,  men  propose  to  satisfy  Divine  justice 
for  the  sins  that  are  past,  by  good  works.  They  have  done 
wrong,  and  they  would  set  themselves  right  with  their  re- 
proaching consciences,  and  their  holy  Sovereign,  by  hence- 
forth doing  right.  In  this  very  attempt,  so  natural  and 
spontaneous  to  man,  we  find  an  evidence  of  the  rationality 
of  the  doctrine  of  atonement.  The  fact  that  a  transgres- 
sor feels  himself  bound  to  do  something  to  "make  amends 
for  having  heretofore  done  nothing,  or  for  having  done 
wrong,  is  proof  that  the  idea  of  satisfying  for  sin  is  not 
so  foreign  and  alien  to  the  human  reason  as  some  theorists 
assert. 

But  the  good  works  of  a  creature  cannot  be  an  atone- 
ment, because  they  are  not  his  own  independent  and  self- 


144  THE  CREATURE  HAS 

sustained  agency.  If  God  works  these  holy  works  in  my 
soul,  how  can  I  offer  them  to  him  as  a  satisfaction  to  his 
justice  for  my  sin  in  the  past  ?  How  can  I  take  money 
out  of  the  purse  of  my  creditor,  to  pay  my  debt  to  him  ? 
An  atonement,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  must  be  an 
original  and  self-sufficient  performance.  Whoever  makes 
one,  must  be  able  to  furnish  entirely  from  himself,  and 
wholly  out  of  his  own  resources,  a  full  equivalent  for 
the  penalty  that  is  due  to  sin.  He  must  be  a  "profita- 
ble" servant,  in  reference  to  the  great  Divine  attribute  of 
justice.  Little  does  that  man  understand  the  natm'e  of  an 
atonement,  who  supposes  that  he  himself  can  make  it. 
None  but  a  Divine  Being — a  Being  of  creative  energy, 
and  self-subsistent  position — can  reach  out  to  the  eternal 
nemesis  of  God,  a  good  work  that  is  purely  his  own,  be- 
cause performed  by  an  independent  and  self-sustaining 
power. 

But,  returning  to  the  good  works  of  the  creature,  let  us 
see  beyond  all  dispute  that  they  cannot  discharge  the 
office  of  a  satisfaction,  and  make  him  "  perfect  in  things 
pertaining  to  conscience."  We  have  observed  that  every 
good  work  in  man  or  angel,  is  the  effect  of  a  Divine  in- 
fluence and  impulse.  Take  the  instance  of  an  imperfectly- 
sanctified  man,  and  see  what  you  find.  He  puts  up  to 
God  a  prayer  that  is  earnest  and  sincere,  though  mixed 
with  sin — sinful  unbelief,  and  sinful  references  to  self. 
What  of  good  there  is  in  this  "good  work,"  as  it  is  de- 
nominated, is  due  to  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
The  warmth,  the  fervor,  the  importunity,  and  the  spirit- 
uality in  this  exercise,  are  all  owing — and  the  praying 
person  is  the  first  to  say  so — to  the  gracious  impulses  and 
promptings  of  God  in  the  soul.  Now,  supposing  tbrt 
there  were  the  inclination  to  do  so,  how  could  this  prayer 
be  employed  as  an  offset  for  any  past  imperfection  or  sin 


NO   ABSOLUTE  MERIT.  145 

of  the  soul  ?  It  is  God's  work  in  the  Christian  heart ; 
how,  then,  can  the  creature  arrogate  it  as  his  own, 
and  claim  to  be  a  "profitable"  servant  thereby,  and 
bring  the  everlasting  justice  of  God  under  bonds  to 
him  by  it  ?  And  so  it  is  with  every  service  or  work  of 
man,  that  is  worthy  of  the  epithet  "  good."  All  this  por- 
tion of  human  agency  is  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  Di- 
vine agency,  in  the  most  thorough  manner  conceivable. 
It  is  dependent  not  only  by  reason  of  creation  and  preser- 
vation, but  of  direct  and  immediate  influence.  The  powers 
and  faculties  of  a  Christian  are  not  only  originated  and  up- 
held by  their  Creator,  but  they  are  directed,  actuated,  and 
assisted  by  Him,  at  every  instant,  and  in  every  experience 
and  action.  Never,  therefore,  was  there  a  greater  contra- 
diction and  absurdity  than  that  involved  in  the  theory  of 
justification  by  good  works.  If  the  good  works  were  ab- 
solutely perfect  works,  and  were  performed  by  the  crea- 
ture by  his  own  independent  and  unassisted  agency,  there 
might  be  some  color  of  reason  for  the  theory.'  But  the 
good  works  are  not  perfect.  The  best  of  men  confess 
that  their  best  experiences  are  mixed  with  remaining  cor- 
ruption ;  that  they  never  did  a  single  deed  which  they 
dare  to  say  was  absolutely  sinless ;  and  that,  more  than  all, 
what  of  goodness  there  is  in  these  imperfectly  sanctified 
souls  and  lives  is  due  wholly  to  the  energy  and  grace  of 
God.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  they  never  adopt  the 
theory  of  justification  by  works.  They  are,  indeed,  liable 
to  this  legality  and  self -righteousness ;  and  they  hate,  it, 

'  Yet  no  adequate  ground  for  it;  since  even  an  independent  and  sin- 
less obedience  of  the  law  for  the  future  by  one  who  has  broken  it  in  the 
past,  would  not  be  a  complete  fulfilment  of  the  law.  Because  the  whole 
of  this  obedience  is  due  in  the  present  and  future,  and  there  is  no  over- 
plus left  for  the  past  failure.  Ready  money  for  new  purchases,  says 
Owen,  cannot  pay  old  debts. 
7 


146  THE  CEEATURE  HAS 

and  struggle  against  it.     But  they  never  make  it  a  dogma, 
and  insert  it  in  their  theological  system. 

Now,  surely,  the  natural  man  is  not  better  than  they. 
The  sinful  secular  world,  to  say  the  very  least,  is  no  better 
qualified  to  furnish  its  own  atonement  than  is  the  Christian 
Church.  The  doctrine  of  justification  by  good  works  will 
no  more  prove  a  solid  foundation,  in  the  day  of  adjudica- 
tion, for  the  worlding  or  the  moralist,  than  for  the  self- 
denying  and  struggling  Christian.  M  the  disciple  of 
Christ  did  not  create  and  sustain  himself,  and  cannot 
perform  good  works  in  his  own  strength,  neither  did  the 
man  of  the  world  create  himself,  or  sustain  himself  ;  and 
neither  can  he  perform  good  works  without  the  same  in- 
ward grace  and  assistance.  All  men,  without  exception, 
are  shut  up  to  the  atonement  of  the  God-man,  if  any 
atonement  for  sin  is  to  be  made  and  accepted.  There  is 
no  other  being  but  the  Eternal  Son  of  God  who  can  stand 
up,  having  life  in  himself,  having  power  to  lay  down  his 
life  and  power  to  take  it  again,  and  from  this  self-existent 
and  self-sustaining  position  can  reach  out  to  the  triune 
Godhead  an  oblation  for  human  guilt  that  is  really  and 
truly  meritorious  and  cancelling.  No  being  except  one 
of  the  three  Divine  Persons  can  be  "  profitable  "  unto  God. 
And  He  can.  When  the  Son  of  God  in  human  nature 
suffers  for  sin,  then  he  strictly  earns  remission  of  sins  for 
those  who  believe  in  him  ;  he  absolutely  merits  the  ac- 
quittal at  the  bar  of  justice  of  all  guilty  sinners  who  trust 
in  his  sacrifice.  When  the  elders  of  the  Jews  came  to 
Jesus  beseeching  him  that  he  would  come  and  heal  the 
servant  of  a  certain  centurion,  they  added  "  that  he  was 
worthy  for  whose  sake  he  should  do  this,  for  he  loveth 
our  nation,  and  hath  built  us  a  synagogue."  This  Roman 
officer  had  brought  the  Jewish  people  under  obligations  to 
him,  by  the  favor  which  he  had  extended  to  them  from  his 


NO  ABSOLUTE   MEEIT.  147 

purely  independent  position  as  a  Koman  citizen,  and  an 
agent  of  the  Roman  emperor.  As  a  Roman,  he  was 
under  no  obligation  to  buUd  a  Jewish  synagogue.  Thus 
is  it  in  respect  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  relations 
to  God  and  man.  He  is  an  independent  Being.  He  owes 
nothing  to  eternal  justice,  and  sinful  man,  certainly,  has 
no  claims  upon  him.  When,  therefore,  such  a  Being 
voluntarily  takes  man's  place,  and  suffers  in  his  stead,  and 
endures  the  full  penalty  which  eternal  justice  demands, 
he  becomes  meritorious  for  man's  salvation  ;  he  becomes 
a  "  profitable  "  servant,  because  he  has  done  tnore  than  it 
was  his  duty  to  do;  he  gives  to  the  Eternal  Godhead 
something  out  of  his  own  resources  which  he  was  not 
obliged  to  give,  and  which  is,  therefore,  cancelling  ;  and 
every  guilty  and  lost  sinner,  as  he  comes  before  the  bar 
of  justice,  may  ask  for  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins  and 
plead  as  a  sufficient  and  all-prevalent  reason,  the  argument 
employed  by  the  Jewish  elders :  "  For  He  is  worthy  for 
whose  sake  this  should  be  done." 

2.  In  the  second  place,  we  see  in  the  light  of  this  sub- 
ject why  the  creature,  even  though  he  be  sinlessly  per- 
fect, must  be  humble. 

Our  Lord  said  to  his  disciples,  "  When  ye  shall  have 
done  all  those  things  which  are  commanded  you,  say,  we 
are  unprofitable  servants."  Even  supposing  that  there 
has  been  an  absolute  conformity  to  the  Divine  command, 
there  must  not  be  egotism  and  pride  in  a  creature's  heart. 
For  there  has  been  no  independent  and  self-supporting 
agency.  Everything  that  the  pure  and  perfect  archangel 
does,  is  done  in  reliance  and  dependence  upon  the  in- 
finite and  adorable  Jehovah,  And  there  is  no  humility  in 
the  universe  of  God  deeper  than  that  which  dwells  in  the 
heart  of  the  serapli  before  the  throne.  He  possesses  a 
virtue  whicJi>  if  compared  with  that  of  the  holiest  man 


148  THE   CEEATURE  HAS 

that  ever  lived,  is  ethereal,  slry-tempered,  and  able  to  re- 
sist the  severest  assaults  of  temptation  and  of  Satan. 
Milton  represents  the  ruined  archangel  as  starting  back 
abashed,  at  the  sight  of  the  pure  and  stainless  chernbs 
whom  God  had  placed  to  guard  our  first  parents  from  the 
Aviles  of  their  adversary.  "  Abashed  the  devil  stood,  and 
felt  how  awful  goodness  is."  These  cherubim  before  a 
fellow-creature,  and  in  relation  to  a  fellow-creature,  were 
indeed  strong  and  mighty.  But  in  relation  to  the  infinite 
and  eternal  God,  they  were  nothing.  Their  ethereal  and 
wondrous  virtue,  in  comparison  with  the  ineffable  and  tran- 
scendent excellence  of  the  Supreme,  was  vanity.  "He 
chargeth  his  angels  with  folly."  This,  these  holy  and 
blessed  spirits  feel ;  and  they  too,  like  the  weakest  man 
upon  earth  struggling  with  temptation  and  faint  with 
fatigue,  humbly  adore  that  God  only  wise,  and  only  good, 
and  only  mighty,  "  of  whom,  and  through  whom,  and  to 
whom  are  all  things." 

But  how  slight  is  our  humility,  in  comparison  with  that 
of  these  high  and  blessed  spirits  before  the  throne  of  God ! 
Pride  is  continually  rising  in  our  hearts  over  a  holiness 
that  is  exceedingly  imperfect,  being  mixed  with  sin  ;  over 
a  holiness  that  from  beginning  to  end  is  the  product  of 
God's  grace  within  our  souls.  How  elated  we  sometimes 
are  over  one  meagre,  shrivelled  excellence !  If  we  per- 
fectlv  obeyed  the  mandate  of  our  Lord  in  the  text,  such 
an  emotion  as  vain-glory  would  never  be  experienced  by 
us.  Let  us  then  ponder  our  Savior's  theory  of  creature- 
merit  more  than  ever.  We  are  "  unprofitable,"  servants, 
even  if  we  should  render  a  perfect  obedience.  If  our 
faith  in  Christ's  atonement  were  so  perfect  that  it  should 
consume  us  with  zeal  for  him  and  his  cause,  we  should  be 
unpi-ofitable  servants,  and  bring  him  under  no  obligations 
to  us.     If  our  dependence  upon  the  grace  of  his  Holy 


NO  ABSOLUTE  MERIT.  149 

Spirit  were  so  implicit  and  entire,  that  it  sliould  enable  us 
to  keep  perfectly  all  his  statutes  and  commandments,  we 
should  still  be  unprofitable  servants.  We  should  still  be  un- 
der an  infinite  obligation  to  him  for  his  life-blood  poured 
out  for  the  expiation  of  our  guilt,  and  for  the  gracious  in- 
fluence of  the  Holj  Spirit  bj  which  our  sanctification  is 
effected. 

But  we  have  not  done  all  that  is  commanded  us.  Our 
faith  in  our  Redeemer  is  very  weak  and  imperfect.  We 
know  comparatively  little,  of  the  virtue  there  is  in  his 
blood  to  cleanse  the  guilty  soul,  and  to  impart  to  it  the 
calm  confidence  of  justification  before  God.  We  know 
little,  comparatively,  of  the  power  of  the  Divine  Com- 
forter to  strengthen  the  will,  to  sanctify  the  heart,  and  to 
bring  the  whole  soul  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of 
Christ.  Our  experience  of  the  gospel  is  very  stinted  and 
meagre,  in  comparison  with  the  fulness,  richness,  and 
freeness  of  its  provisions.  Such  servants  as  we,  so  far 
from  being  "  profitable,"  can  with  difficulty  be  called 
"  faithful."  Suppose  that  the  Master  should  address  us 
with  the  words,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant," 
should  we  not  feel  like  saying  to  him,  "  Lord,  when  have 
we  been  faithful ;  what  hast  thou  seen  in  us  that  renders 
us  worthy  of  such  an  address  ? " 

3.  And  this  leads  to  a  third  and  final  inference  from 
the  subject,  namely,  that  God  does  not  require  man  to  be 
a  "profitable"  servant,  but  to  be  b. faithful  servant. 

In  the  last  great  day,  Christ  will  say  to  his  true  disciples, 
"  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the 
joy  of  thy  Lord."  God  does  not  demand  from  his  creatures 
a  service  that  must  be  rendered  from  an  independent 
position,  that  must  be  performed  by  a  self-subsistent 
power,  and  that  will  bring  him  under  obligation  to  the 
person  so  rendering  it.     Everywhere  his  command  to  the 


150  THE  CREATURE  HAS 

creature  is :  "  Be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  the  power  of  his 
might.  Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  do  good.  Work  out  your 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  for  it  is  God  that  work- 
eth  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do.  He  that  trusteth  in 
his  own  heart  is  a  fool.  Cursed  is  the  man  that  trusteth 
in  man,  and  maketh  flesh  his  arm."  Such  injunctions 
and  declarations  as  these  imply  that  man  must  serve  God 
by  leaning  upon  him ;  and  that  he  must  give  back  to  God 
that  which  God  has  first  given  to  him.  The  servants,  in 
the  parable,  did  not  first  create  the  five  talents,  or  the  ten 
talents,  independently  of  their  lord,  and  then  make  them 
over  to  him.  He  gave  them  the  talents,  and  required 
simply  a  right  use  and  improvement  of  them.  Thus  is  it, 
in  a  still  higher  sense,  in  reference  to  man  and  his  Maker. 
Not  only  are  the  talents  created  and  bestowed,  but,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  very  inclination  and  ability  to  make  a  right 
employment  of  them  issues  from  the  same  boundless  source. 
"  We  are  not  sufficient  of  ourselves  to  think  any  thing  as 
of  ourselves ;  all  our  sufficiency  is  of  God." 

It  is,  therefore,  a  true  and  proper  supplication  that 
Augustine  puts  up,  when  he  says  to  God :  "  Give  what 
thou  commandest,  and  command  what  thou  wilt."  This 
corresponds  with  the  Psalmist's  promise :  "  I  will  run  in 
the  way  of  thy  commandments  when  thou  shalt  enlarge 
my  heart."  The  "faithful"  servant  is  one  who,  feeling 
his  entire  dependence  and  helplessness,  does  not  propose 
to  labor  in  his  own  strength,  and  to  proudly  offer  to  God 
something  from  his  own  independent  resources,  but  simply 
desires  to  lean  upon  God  continually,  to  take  hold  of  his 
strength,  and  thereby  keep  all  his  commandments,  and 
glorify  him  in  his  body  and  spirit  which  are  His. 

And  what  an  easy  task  is  this.  The  yoke  is  easy,  and 
the  burden  is  light.  Our  Maker  does  not  command  us  to 
be  strong  in  ourselves ;  but  to  be  strong  in  Him.    He  does 


NO  ABSOLUTE  MEEIT.  151 

not  require  us  to  originate  our  own  existence,  to  maintain 
ourselves  in  being,  to  labor  upon  an  isolated  and  indepen- 
dent position,  and  to  give  unto  him  something  that  shall 
add  to  his  essential  happiness  and  essential  glory.  He 
furnishes  everything,  and  only  requires  that  we  be  faithful 
in  employing  his  gifts.  We  are  stewards  of  the  manifold 
gifts  of  God ;  and  it  is  required  of  a  steward,  simply  and 
only,  that  he  be  found  faithful. 

Are  we  "  faithful "  servants  ?  Since  we  cannot  be 
"  profitable  "  servants,  the  only  thing  that  remains  for  us  is 
to  employ  the  innumerable  gifts  and  bounties  of  God  with 
fidelity.  Our  time,  faculties  of  mind  and  body,  wealth, 
opportunities  of  influence — everything  that  goes  to  make 
up  our  personality,  and  everything  that  is  connected  with 
our  existence  here  upon  earth — the  whole  man,  body,  soul, 
spirit,  possessions,  and  influence  in  every  direction,  must 
be  conscientiously  used  to  honor  God  and  benefit  man. 
This,  too,  in  reliance  upon  God. 

Whoever  is  thus  faithful,  will  be  rewarded  with  as  great 
a  reward  as  if  he  were  an  independent  and  self-sustaining 
agent.  Nay,  even  if  man  could  be  a  "  profitable  "  servant, 
and  could  bring  God  under  obligation  to  him,  his  happi- 
ness in  receiving  a  recompense  under  such  circumstances 
would  not  compare  with  that  under  the  present  arrange- 
ment. It  would  be  a  purely  mercantile  transaction  be- 
tween the  parties.  There  would  be  no  love  in  the  service, 
or  in  the  recompense.  The  creature  would  calmly,  proudly, 
do  his  work,  and  the  Creator  would  calmly  pay  him  his 
wages.  And  the  transaction  would  end  there,  like  any 
other  bargain.  But  now,  there  is  affection  between  the 
parties — filial  love  on  one  side,  and  paternal  love  on  the 
other ;  dependence,  and  weakness,  and  clinging  trust,  on 
one  side,  and  grace,  and  almighty  power,  and  infinite  fulness 
on  the  other.    God  rewards  by  jpromise  and  by  covenant, 


162        THE   CEEATUEE  HAS  NO   ABSOLUTE   MEEIT. 

and  not  because  of  an  absolute  and  original  indebtedness 
to  the  creature  of  his  power.  And  the  creatui*e  feels  that 
he  is  what  he  is,  because  of  the  grace  of  God.  There  is 
no  pride  or  boasting  of  heart,  on  his  side.  And  the  in- 
finite Creator,  who  needs  nothing,  and  cannot  be  brought 
under  bonds  by  any  of  the  works  of  his  hands,  pours 
out  the  infinite  fulness  of  his  being  and  his  blessedness 
upon  a  creature  who  rejoices  in  the  thought  that  all  that 
he  is,  is  the  work  of  Divine  providence  and  grace,  and 
all  that  he  has  accomplished,  is  the  effect  of  God  "  work- 
ing in  him  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure." 


SERMON  X. 

FAITH  WITH  AND  WITHOUT  SIGHT, 


John  XX.  29. — "Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thomas,  because  thou  hast 
seen  me,  thou  hast  believed  :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and 
yet  have  believed." 


This  is  one  of  the  most  comforting  and  encouraging 
passages  in  the  whole  Scripture,  to  a  doubting  and  anxious 
Christian.  There  is  one  instance  upon  record,  in  which 
it  proved  a  strong  support  and  consolation  in  an  hour  of 
great  need.  The  late  Dr.  Arnold  of  Rugby,  one  of  the 
most  serious-minded  and  earnest  men  which  England  has 
produced  in  this  century,  was  suddenly  summoned  to  meet 
death  and  judgment.  In  the  midst  of  perfect  health  he 
was  attacked  with  spasm  of  the  heart,  and  learned  that  in 
a  moment  he  would  be  called  into  the  infinitely  holy 
presence  of  his  Maker.  He  knew  what  this  meant ;  for 
the  immaculate  purity  of  God  was  a  subject  that  had 
profoundly  impressed  his  spiritual  and  ethical  mind.  He 
felt  the  need  of  mercy  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  God  face 
to  face ;  and  as  he  lay  upon  his  death-bed,  still,  thought- 
ful, and  absorbed  in  silent  prayer,  all  at  once  he  repeated, 
firmly  and  earnestly  :  "  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thomas, 
because  thou  hast  seen  me  thou  hast  believed  :  blessed  are 
they  who  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed."  '     Here  is 

«  Stanley  :  Life  of  Arnold,  II.  283. 


154  FAITH   WITH  AND 

an  actual  case  in  which  a  single  text  operated  like  a 
cordial ;  and  a  case,  too,  in  which  there  was  no  fanaticism 
or  self-delusion.  For  Arnold's  mind  was  highly  intel- 
lectual, and  its  natural  tendency  apart  from  the  influences 
of  Christianity  was  to  criticism  and  skepticism.  He  was 
an  Aristotelian  in  his  mental  type,  and  in  all  his  scholar- 
ship and  culture.  But  after  an  earnest  Christian  life,  in 
the  hour  of  sudden  death,  from  which  the  litany  of  the 
Church  which  he  honored  and  loved  prays,  "  Good  Lord, 
deliver  us,"  he  pillowed  his  head  upon  this  blessed  decla- 
ration of  the  Redeemer,  and  went  to  his  rest.  Let  us, 
therefore,  approach  this  text  and  this  subject  as  no  mere 
abstraction,  but  as  one  that  has  actually  been  efficacious 
and  consoling  in  the  supreme  hour  of  a  celebrated  man. 

This  passage  of  Scripture  suggests  a  comparison  between 
faith  aided  by  sight,  and  faith  independent  of  sight.  How 
does  the  faith  of  the  Church  in  an  age  of  miracles  differ 
from  its  fajth  when  miracles  have  ceased  ?  In  answering 
this  question,  we  propose,  in  the  first  place,  to  notice  some 
of  the  advantages  that  were  enjoyed  by  those  who  dwelt 
under  the  miraculous  dispensation  ;  and  in  the  second 
place,  to  consider  the  advantages  experienced  since  the 
days  of  miracles. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  then,  what  were  some  of  the  ad- 
vantages enjoyed  by  those  who  lived  and  served  God  in 
the  times  of  miracle  f 

They  may  all  be  summed  up  in  the  remark,  that  to  a 
considerable  extent  the  pious  patriarch,  and  the  pious  Jew, 
and  the  first  Christians,  walked  by  sight.  They  believed 
because  they  saw.  By  this  we  do  not  mean  that  the 
ancient  believer  walked  wholly  by  sight.  I^oah  was 
"  warned  of  God  of  things  not  seen  as  yet."  Abraham 
went  out  of  his  old  home  "  not  knowing  whither  he 
went."     And  that  long  list  of  worthies  mentioned  in  the 


WITHOUT   SIGHT.  155 

eleventh  chapter  of  Hebrews,  is  represented  as  acting 
without  assistance  from  the  objects  of  time  and  sense, 
in  the  particular  instances  that  are  specified.  But  we 
mean  to  say  that,  comparing  these  forerunners  of  ours 
with  ourselves,  and  taking  into  the  account  the  whole 
course  of  their  lives,  they  were  much  Tnore  aided  by  sight 
than  we  are. 

For  it  was  an  age  and  dispensation  of  supernaturalism. 
God  was  frequently  breaking  in  upon  the  ordinary  course 
of  events,  and  proving  his  existence  by  his  visible  pres- 
ence. Who  could  doubt  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  exist- 
ence, who  could  be  an  atheist,  as  he  stood  under  Mount 
Sinai  and  heard  a  voice  that  shook  the  earth  and  heavens 
saying  :  "  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me  ? " 
Who  could  query  respecting  the  possibility  of  miracles, 
when  he  saw  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea  rising  up  like  a 
wall  upon  each  side  of  him  ;  when  he  saw  a  dead  man  re- 
vived to  life  upon  touching  the  bones  of  Elisha ;  when  he 
saw,  as  Hezekiah  did,  the  shadow  go  back  ten  degrees 
upon  the  sun-dial ;  when  he  heard  Christ  call  up  Lazarus 
from  the  tomb,  and  when  he  looked  down  into  the  vacant 
sepulchre  of  the  crucified  Son  of  God  ? 

Now  there  was  something  in  this,  unquestionably,  that 
rendered  faith  in  God's  existence  and  God's  power  com- 
paratively easy  to  the  ancient  believer.  The  senses,  when 
appealed  to  in  this  striking  manner,  by  the  exhibition  of 
supernatural  energy,  are  a  very  great  aid  to  faith.  Seeing 
is  believing,  Jacob,  for  example,  must  have  found  it  no 
difficult  thing  to  believe  and  trust  in  a  Being  who  was 
every  now  and  then  speaking  to  him,  directing  him  into 
new  paths  and  places,  watching  over  him,  and  delivering 
him  from  difficulties  and  dangers.  Such  a  communica- 
tion as  that  which  he  received  from  the  mouth  of  God  in 
the  wonderful  dream  at  Bethel,  must  have  filled  him  with 


166  FAITH   WITH   AND 

an  unwavering  belief  in  both  the  existence  and  the  kind- 
ness of  God. 

How  differently  the  believer  of  the  present  time  is  situ- 
ated, in  this  respect,  it  is  needless  to  say.  If  we  suppose 
miracles  to  have  ceased  with  the  age  of  the  Apostles,  then 
for  eighteen  hundred  years  there  has  been  no  exertion  of 
miraculous  power  upon  the  part  of  God  in  the  affairs  of 
his  Church.  Generation  after  generation  of  Christians  has 
come  and  gone,  but  no  celestial  sign  has  been  given  to 
them.  They  have  believed  that  God  is,  and  is  the  re- 
warder  of  those  that  diligently  seek  him,  but  they  have 
never  seen  his  shape  nor  heard  his  voice.  They  have  had 
strong  faith  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  reality 
of  a  future  life,  but  no  soul  has  ever  returned  from  the 
invisible  world  to  give  them  ocular  demonstration,  and 
make  their  assurance  doubly  sure.  In  some  instances,  this 
reticence  upon  the  part  of  God,  this  silence  century  after 
century,  has  produced  an  almost  painful  uncertainty,  and 
wakened  the  craving  for  some  palpable  evidence  of  unseen 
realities.  That  interesting  man,  John  Foster,  is  an  example 
of  this.  "  They  never  come  back  to  tell  us ;  they  never 
come  back  to  tell  us,"  was  his  passionate  ejaculation  upon 
thinking  of  the  impenetrable  cloud  which  envelops  those 
who  have  departed  this  life.  And  all  these  spasmodic 
and  baffled  attempts  of  the  false  spiritualism  of  this  day, 
and  of  former  days,  are  another  testimony  to  the  craving 
natural  to  man  for  some  miraculous  tokens  and  signs. 
Skeptics  contend  that  the  miracle  is  irrational.  But,  cer- 
tainly, nothing  is  irrational  for  which  there  is  a  steady  and 
constant  demand  upon  the  part  of  human  nature.  The 
hankering  which  man,  in  all  ages  and  in  all  varieties  of  civ- 
ilization, has  shown  for  the  supernatural,  proves  the  super- 
natural— as  the  universal  hunger  for  bread  proves  that 
there  is  bread,  and  as  the  steady  and  continual  thirst  for 


WITHOUT   SIGHT.  157 

water  proves  that  there  is  water.  Otherwise,  there  is 
mockery  in  creation.  Man  as  a  religious  being  expects 
and  must  have  some  sensible  signs  from  another  world ; 
and  therefore  there  has  never  been  a  religion  of  any  gen- 
eral prevalence  which  has  not  had  its  miracles,  pretended 
or  real.  The  ancient  Paganism,  and  the  modern  Moham- 
medanism, equally  with  the  Jewish  and  Christian  religions, 
claim  authority  upon  the  ground  of  celestial  credentials. 

Our  brethren,  then,  of  the  Patriarchal,  the  Jewish,  and 
the  Early  Christian  times,  enjoyed  this  advantage  over  us. 
The  aids  of  the  senses  were  granted  to  them  in  the  exer- 
cise of  faith.  They  were  not  shut  up  as  we  are  to  a  purely 
mental  and  spiritual  act.  "  Because  thou  hast  seen  me, 
thou  hast  believed,"  might  have  been  said  to  them  all,  as 
Christ  said  it  to  Thomas. 

II.  But  our  Lord  said  to  his  doubting  disciple :  "  Bles- 
sed are  they  who  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed." 
In  this  remark,  he  evidently  implies  that  those  who  believe 
in  him  and  his  word  without  the  aid  of  those  sensible 
manifestations  which  were  enjoyed  by  Thomas  and  his 
fellow-disciples,  receive  a  greater  blessing  than  they  did. 
Let  us  then  consider,  in  the  second  place,  some  of  the 
advantages  which  the  Church  of  God  experiences  in  these 
latter  days,  when  there  is  no  miracle  to  assist  their  faith. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  believing  without  seeing  is  a  stronger 
faith  than  believing  because  of  sight ;  and  the  stronger 
the  faith,  the  greater  the  blessedness.  If  Thomas  had 
put  credit  in  the  affirmation  of  the  other  disciples  that 
they  had  seen  the  Lord,  and  had  not  insisted  upon  seeing 
for  himself  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  putting  his  finger 
into  the  print  of  the  nails,  it  is  evident  that  his  faith  in 
the  Divine  person  and  power  of  Christ  would  have  been 
greater  than  it  actually  was.  For  Christ  had  foretold 
him,  in  common  with  his  fellow  disciples,  that  he  was  to 


158  FAITH   WITH  AND 

be  crucified,  and  on  the  third  day  after  his  cnicifixion 
would  rise  from  the  dead.  Thomas  had  ah'eadj  witnessed 
the  crucifixion,  and  knew  that  this  part  of  his  Lord's 
prophecy  was  fulfilled.  If,  now,  he  had  exercised  an  im- 
plicit confidence  in  the  remainder  of  Christ's  prophecy, 
the  instant  that  the  other  disciples  informed  him  that  they 
had  seen  the  Lord,  he  would  have  believed  them.  But 
his  doubt,  and  his  demand  to  see  and  touch  the  risen 
Lord,  evinced  that  his  faith  in  the  power  of  Christ  to  rise 
from  the  dead,  and  make  his  promise  good,  was  weak  and 
wavering.  It  needed  to  be  helped  out  by  sight,  and  there- 
fore was  not  of  so  high  and  fine  a  type  as  it  might  have  been. 
If  we  examine  the  Scriptures,  we  shall  find  that  that 
faith  is  most  pleasing  to  God,  and  is  regarded  by  him  as  of 
the  best  quality,  which  leans  least  upon  the  creature,  and 
most  upon  the  Creator.  Whenever  man  rests  his  whole 
weight  upon  God  ;  whenever  the  Christian  trusts  the  bare 
word  of  his  Lord  and  Master  without  any  aid  from  other 
sources  ;  God  is  most  honored.  Take  the  case  of  Abra- 
ham. We  have  already  noticed  that  in  some  respects  he 
was  not  called  to  exercise  so  simple  and  entire  a  trust  in 
the  Divine  word  as  we  are.  He  lived  in  a  period  of 
miracle,  and  was  the  subject  of  miraculous  impressions. 
But  there  were  some  emergencies,  or  critical  points,  in  his 
life,  when  his  faith  was  put  to  a  very  severe  trial — times 
when,  in  the  Scripture  phrase,  God  "tempted"  him. 
These  were  the  instances  in  which  his  experience  resem- 
bled more  that  of  the  modern  than  that  of  the  ancient  be- 
liever, and  it  is  with  reference  to  them  that  he  is  styled 
the  "  father  of  the  faithful."  Consider  the  trial  of  his 
faith  when  commanded  to  sacrifice  Isaac.  This  child  had 
been  given  to  him  by  a  miracle  ;  for  Isaac  was  born  as 
truly  against  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  as  Christ  him- 
self.    Abraham   did  indeed   manifest  doubt  when  God 


WITHOUT  SIGHT.  159 

promised  him  this  son — showing  that  his  faith  at  that 
point  was  infirm.  But  when  the  promise  had  been  ful- 
filled, and  Isaac  was  growing  up  before  him  in  beauty  and 
in  strength,  then  he  certainly  knew  that  God  is  almight}^ 
and  faithful  to  his  word.  Here,  up  to  this  point,  the  faith 
of  the  patriarch  was  resting  very  much  upon  sight  and  sen- 
sible things.  But  when  he  is  suddenly  commanded  to 
take  this  very  child  who  had  been  given  to  him  by  a 
miracle,  and  whose  death  would  apparently  nullify  the 
Divine  promise  that  in  his  seed  all  the  kindreds  of  the 
earth  should  be  blessed — when  he  is  commanded,  without 
a  word  of  explanation,  to  sacrifice  the  son  of  promise,  to 
obey  was  the  highest  conceivable  act  of  pure  faith.  It 
did  not  rest  at  all  upon  any  thing  that  could  be  seen.  It 
was  mere  and  simple  confidence  in  the  authority  and 
power  of  God.  He  only  knew  that  it  was  the  Eternal 
Jehovah  who  had  given  him  the  awful  order  to  put  the 
sacrificial  knife  to  the  heart  of  his  child,  and  the  Eternal 
Jehovah  must  be  obeyed  at  all  hazards.  This  was  the 
crowning  act  of  faith  upon  the  part  of  Abraham,  and  God 
put  great  honor  upon  him  for  it,  because  Abraham  had 
put  great  honor  upon  God  in  hoping  against  hope,  and 
following  in  the  path  of  the  Divine  command  without  a 
ray  of  earthly  light. 

Now,  it  is  to  this  uncommon  species,  this  high  degree 
of  faith,  that  the  modern  believer  is  invited.  We  have 
never  seen  a  miracle.  We  have  never  witnessed  the  man- 
ifestations of  God's  supernatural  power.  We  have  only 
read  the  record  of  what  He  did,  in  this  way,  thousands  of 
years  ago.  It  is  indeed  an  authentic  record,  yet  it  cannot, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  make  such  a  startling  impres- 
sion upon  us  as  would  the  very  miracles  themselves — as 
would  the  very  plagues  of  Egypt,  the  passage  of  the  Eed 
Sea,  the  thunders  of  Sinai,  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus, 


160  FAITH   WITH   AND 

the  darkness,  the  quaking  of  the  earth,  the  rending  of  the 
rocks  and  opening  of  the  graves,  that  accompanied  the 
Crucifixion.  As  Horace  long  ago  said :  "  That  which 
conies  in  by  the  ear  does  not  affect  us  like  that  which 
comes  in  by  the  eye."  Our  faith  must  therefore  rest  more, 
comparatively,  upon  the  simple  authority  of  God.  As  an 
act,  it  must  be  more  purely  mental  and  spiritual.  Inas- 
much as  we  see  less  with  our  outward  vision,  we  must  be- 
lieve more  with  the  very  mind  and  heart.  And  here  is 
the  greater  strength  and  superiority  of  the  modern  faith. 
The  inward  powers  of  the  soul  are  nobler  than  the  five 
senses ;  and  their  acts  have  more  worth  and  dignity  than 
the  operations  of  the  senses.  Keason  is  a  higher  faculty 
than  sense.  If  I  believe  in  the  power  and  goodness  of 
God  only  because,  and  only  when,  I  see  their  operation  in 
a  given  instance,  I  do  not  give  him  any  very  high  honor. 
There  is  no  very  great  merit  in  following  the  notices  of 
the  five  senses.  An  animal  does  this  continually.  But 
when  I  believe  that  God  is  great  and  good,  not  only  when 
I  have  no  special  evidence  from  material  phenomena,  but 
when  these  phenomena  seemingly  teach  the  contrary ; 
when  my  faith  runs  back  to  the  nature  and  attributes  of 
God  himself,  and  is  not  staggered  in  the  least  by  any- 
thing that  I  see,  then  I  give  God  great  honor.  I  follow 
higher  dictates  than  those  of  the  five  senses.  I  believe 
with  the  mind  and  heart;  and  with  the  mind  and  heart  I 
make  confession  unto  salvation.  My  faith  is  not  sensuous, 
but  spiritual.  I  rectify  the  teachings  of  mere  time  and 
sense,  by  the  higher  teachings  of  revelation  and  the  spir- 
itual mind. 

That  bold  and  eloquent  North-African  father,  Tertul- 
lian,  speaking  of  miracles,  remarks :  "I  believe  the  mira- 
cle because  it  is  impossible."  '     This  remark  has  been  a 


'  Credo  quia  impossibile  est. 


WITHOUT   SIGHT.  161 

theme  for  the  wit  of  the  unbeliever,  because  he  under- 
stood Tertullian  to  say  that  he  believed  an  absolute  impos- 
sibility. This  is  not  the  meaning  of  the  celebrated  dictum. 
Tertullian  means  that  he  believes  that  a  thing  which  is 
relatively  impossible — which  is  impossible  with  man — is 
for  this  very  reason  possible  with  God.  The  Creator  must 
have  the  power  to  work  a  miracle,  from  the  very  fact  that 
the  creature  has  no  such  power.  For  if  God  can  never  rise 
above  the  plane  upon  which  a  creature  acts,  then  it  is  a 
natural  inference  that  he  is  nothing  but  a  creature  himself. 
If  a  thing  that  is  impossible  for  man  is  impossible  for  God 
also,  what  is  the  difference  between  God  and  man?  "I 
believe,  therefore,"  says  Tertullian,  "  that  the  Creator  is 
able  to  work  a  miracle,  for  the  very  reason  that  the  crea- 
ture cannot.  Its  impossibility  in  respect  to  finite  power, 
makes  it  all  the  more  certain  in  respect  to  infinite.  I  be- 
lieve the  thing  in  reference  to  God,  because  in  reference 
to  man  and  man's  agency  it  is  an  utter  impossibility." 

This  is  sound  reasoning  for  any  one  who  concedes  the 
existence  of  God,  and  believes  that  he  differs  in  kind  from 
his  creatures.  Tertullian  only  utters  in  a  striking  paradox 
the  thought  of  St.  Paul,  when  he  says  to  King  Agrippa : 
"  Why  should  it  be  thought  a  thing  incredible  with  you 
that  God  should  raise  the  dead?"  and  the  affirmation 
of  our  Lord  :  "  The  things  which  are  impossible  with  men 
are  possible  with  God." 

]^ow,  this  is  the  kind  of  faith  that  does  not  lean  upon 
the  five  senses,  but  goes  back  to  the  rational  idea  and  in- 
trinsic nature  of  God.  The  Supreme  Being  can  do  any- 
thing ;  and  whatever  he  does  is  wise  and  good.  This  is 
faith  in  its  higher  and  stronger  actings.  The  mind  re- 
poses upon  God  simply  and  alone.  It  does  not  ask  for 
the  ways  and  means.  All  that  it  requires  is,  to  be  certain 
that  the  Divine  promise  has  been  given ;  that  God  has 


162  FAITH  WITH  AND 

pledged  his  word  in  a  given  instance ;  and  then  it  leaves 
all  to  Him.  Whether  the  laws  of  nature  work  for  or 
against  the  promised  result  is  a  matter  of  not  the  slightest 
consequence,  provided  that  the  Author  of  nature,  who 
taketh  up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing,  and  holds  the 
waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  has  said  that  it  shall 
verily  come  to  pass.  This  is  the  simplest  and  strongest 
form  of  faith.  "  Blessed  are  they  who  have  not  seen,  and 
yet  have  believed."  And  this  is  the  form  of  faith  to 
which  we  are  invited.' 

2.  In  the  second  place,  faith  without  sight  honors  God 
more  than  faith  that  is  assisted  by  sight.  We  cannot  show 
greater  respect  for  any  one  than  to  take  his  bare  word. 
In  human  circles  it  is  the  highest  praise  that  can  be  ac- 
corded, when  it  is  said  of  a  person :  "  I  have  his  word  for 
it,  and  that  is  enough."  If  we  are  compelled  in  a  given 
instance  to  go  back  of  the  man's  word  or  promise,  and  scru- 
tinize his  integrity  or  his  pecuniary  ability ;  if  we  must 
doubt  the  person  and  look  into  his  character  or  circum- 
stances, our  faith  in  him  is  not  of  the  strongest  kind,  and 
we  do  not  put  the  highest  honor  upon  him.  There  are 
comparatively  few  men  of  this  first  class  and  standing ; 
comparatively  few  of  whom  the  whole  community  with 
one  voice  will  say:  "We  want  no  examinations  and  no 
guarantees ;  we  trust  the  Qnan,'  we  have  his  word  and 
promise,  and  this  is  sufficient."  But  when  such  men  do 
stand  forth  year  after  year,  strong  and  trustworthy  because 
they  fear  God  and  love  their  neighbor  as  themselves,  what 
an  honor  is  put  upon  them  by  the  implicit,  unquestioning 


'  "  To  bottom  ourselves  upon  the  all-sufficiency  of  God,  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  such  things  as  are  altogether  impossible  to  anything  but 
that  all-sufficiency,  is  faith  indeed,  and  worthy  of  our  imitation." — 
Owen's  Sermon,  on  the  Steadfastness  of  God's  Promises, 


WITHOUT  SIGHT.  163 

confidence  which  is  felt  in  them — by  the  faith  in  the  mere 
person,  without  the  sight  of  his  ways  and  means. 

Precisely  so  is  it  with  faith  in  God.  Just  so  far  as  we 
withhold  our  confidence  in  him  until  we  can  see  the  wis- 
dom of  his  ways,  just  so  far  do  we  dishonor  him  ;  and  just 
in  proportion  as  we  trust  in  him  because  he  is  God,  whether 
we  can  perceive  the  reasons  of  his  actions  or  not,  do  we 
give  glory  to  him.  Suppose  a  sudden  sorrow  is  sent  from 
his  hand,  that  appears  wholly  dark  and  inexplicable — that 
a  missionary  is  cut  down  in  the  bloom  of  life,  and  in  the 
midst  of  great  usefulness  among  an  unevangelized  and  de- 
graded population ;  that  a  wise  and  kind  father  is  taken 
away  from  a  family  that  leans  entirel}'^  upon  him.  If  in 
these  instances  no  questions  are  asked,  and  no  doubts  are 
felt  or  expressed ;  if  the  Church  and  the  children  of  God 
say  with  David  :  "I  am  dumb  with  silence  because  Thou 
didst  it,"  what  an  honor  do  they  render  to  God  by  such 
absolute  confidence.  And  he  so  regards  it,  and  accepts  it, 
and  rewards  it. 

For  the  faith  in  such  cases  terminates  upon  the  very 
personality  and  nature  of  God.  It  passes  by  all  secondary . 
causes  and  agencies,  and  reposes  upon  the  First  Cause. 
Oftentimes  our  faith  is  of  such  a  mixed  character,  that  it 
honors  the  creature  as  much  as  the  Creator.  We  exercise 
confidence,  partly  because  God  has  promised,  and  partly 
because  we  see,  or  think  we  see,  some  earthly  and  human 
grounds  for  faith.  For  example,  if  we  expect  that  the 
whole  world  will  be  Christianized,  partly  because  of  the 
Divine  promises  and  prophecies,  and  partly  because  the 
wealth  and  civilization  and  military  power  of  the  earth 
are  in  the  possession  of  Christian  nations,  we  honor  the 
creature  in  conjunction  with  the  Creator ;  and  this  is  to 
dishonor  him,  for  he  says :  "  My  glory  will  I  not  give  to 
another."     The  faith  of  the  Church  is  of  the  purest,  high- 


164  FAITH   WITH   AND 

est  kind,  only  when  she  trusts  solely  and  simply  in  the 
promise  and  power  of  her  covenant  God,  and  looks  upon 
all  the  favoring  earthly  circumstances  as  results,  not  as 
supports,  of  this  promise.  The  fact  that  Christian  mis- 
sions are  being  aided  very  materially  by  the  wealth,  and 
civilization,  and  military  power  of  the  Protestant  world, 
is  not  an  independent  ground  of  confidence  that  Christian 
missions  will  ultimately  evangelize  the  earth.  We  must 
not  put  any  earthly  and  human  agency  into  equality  and 
co-ordination  with  the  Divine.  The  creature  in  itself  is 
nothing ;  and  it  derives  all  its  efficiency  from  God,  who  is 
the  first  cause  and  last  end  of  all  things.  Take  away  the 
promises,  and  purposes,  and  controlling  agency  of  God, 
and  where  would  be  the  wealth,  the  civilization,  and  mili- 
tary power  of  Protestant  Europe  and  America  ?  If  we 
rest  our  faith  in  a  glorious  future  for  our  wretched  world, 
upon  what  these  can  accomplish  by  an  independent  agency  ; 
if  we  rest  upon  two  arms,  the  arm  of  God,  and  the  arm  of 
flesh,  our  faith  is  infirm,  and  it  does  no  real  honor  to  our 
Maker.  "  Sufficient  is  Thine  arm  alone,  and  our  defence 
is  sure."  And  it  will  be  one  of  the  signs  of  that  mightier 
faith  which  will  herald  the  dawn  of  the  millennium,  when 
the  Church,  leaving  its  mixed  confidence  in  the  Creator  and 
creature ;  leaving  its  partial  trust  in  wealth,  civilization, 
arts,  sciences,  commerce,  armies,  and  navies,  shall  settle 
down  once  more  upon  the  one  immutable  ground  of  confi- 
dence— the  word,  and  the  power,  and  the  pity  of  the  Ever- 
lasting God.  This  was  the  mighty  faith  of  the  Early 
Church.  The  civilization  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  world 
was  arrayed  against  them,  and  they  could  not  lean  upon  it 
in  conjunction  with  God,  if  they  would.  They  were  shut  up 
to  the  mere  power  and  promise  of  the  Most  High.  They 
leaned  upon  God's  hare  artn.  And  what  honor  did  they 
give  Him  in  this  ;  and  how  did  he  honor  them  in  return ! 


WITHOUT  SIGHT.  165 

We  see,  then,  as  the  result  of  this  discussion,  that  while 
our  brethren  of  the  Patriarchal,  Jewish,  and  Early-Chris- 
tian eras  found  it  easier,  in  some  respects,  to  believe  in 
God  and  unseen  realities,  by  reason  of  the  supernatural 
manifestations  that  were  granted  to  them,  we  of  these  last 
times  enjoy  the  privilege  of  exercising  a  faith  that  is  more 
robust  and  firm  because  more  purely  spiritual,  and  a  faith 
that  puts  more  honor  upon  God.  Provided  we  do  rise 
above  the  clogs  of  the  body  and  of  sense ;  provided  we  do 
exercise  a  simple  unwavering  confidence  in  God  as  God, 
in  spite  of  all  the  outward  infidelity  of  the  day,  and  the 
more  dangerous  inward  infidelity  of  our  imperfect  hearts ; 
we  shall  hear  him  saying  to  us :  "  Others  have  believed 
because  they  have  seen  :  blessed  are  ye,  because  ye  have 
not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed." 

From  this  subject,  it  is  evident  that  God  is  the  sole  object 
of  faith.  There  is  a  difference  between  belief  and  faith  ; 
between  believing,  and  believing  ^n,  and  on^  and  u^on. 
We  may  believe  a  man ;  we  may  believe  an  angel ;  but 
we  may  believe  in  and  on  God  alone.  Faith  is  the  re- 
cumbence, and  resting,  of  the  mind ;  and  the  mind  can 
find  no  rest  in  a  creature.  All  creatures  stand  upon  a 
level,  so  far  as  self-sufficiency  is  concerned  ;  and  if  we  can- 
not find  rest  in  ourselves,  how  can  we  in  a  fellow-worm. 
As  we  look  into  our  own  natures,  and  discover  that  they 
are  ignorant,  weak,  and  sinful,  and  then  look  around  for 
what  we  lack,  we  shall  never  find  it  in  a  creature.  All 
creatures  are  ignorant,  weak,  and  finite.  Only  God  is  wise, 
mighty,  and  infinite.  "  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes,  nor 
in  the  son  of  man  in  whom  there  is  no  help.  Happy  is 
he  that  hath  the  God  of  Jacob  for  his  help,  whose  hope  is 
in  the  Lord  his  God." 

Furthermore,  if  God  is  the  sole  object  of  faith,  then  we 
must  beware  of  a  inixed  or  partial  faith.     We  must  not 


166  FAITH   WITH  AND   WITHOUT   SIGHT. 

trust  partly  in  God,  and  partly  in  his  creatures.  He  will 
receive  no  divided  honors.  As  in  our  justification  by  the 
atonement,  we  cannot  trust  partly  in  the  blood  of  Christ, 
and  partly  in  our  own  good  works,  so  in  our  more  general 
relation  to  God,  our  confidence  must  not  rest  upon  any 
combination  or  union  between  Him  and  the  works  of  his 
hands.  We  are  told  by  St.  Paul,  and  we  well  know,  that 
Christ  must  be  our  sole  atonement,  and  that  we  must  not 
attempt  to  add  to  his  finished  oblation  by  our  own  suf- 
ferings, or  deeds.  Our  absolution  at  the  bar  of  justice 
must  be  no  composite  affair ;  depending  partly  upon  what 
our  Substitute  has  done,  and  partly  upon  what  we  have 
done.  The  whole,  or  none,  is  the  rule  here.  And  so  must 
be  our  faith  in  God.  We  must  repose  our  whole  weight 
upon  Him  alone.  Anything  short  of  this,  dishonors  that 
exalted  and  infinite  Being  who  never  enters  into  part- 
nership with  his  creatures ;  that  All-sufficient  Being,  of 
whom,  and  through  whom,  and  to  whom  are  all  things. 

We  know  these  things,  happy  are  we  if  we  do  them. 
It  is  the  highest  accomplishment  of  the  Christian  life, 
actually  and  perfectly  to  believe  in  God  in  Christ.  We 
are  continually  pulled  back  from  this  blessed  and  this 
mighty  act  of  faith,  by  our  detestable  pride  and  creature- 
worship.  It  is  a  great  art  to  desert  the  creature  in  all  its 
forms,  and  live  and  move  in  our  Creator  and  Redeemer. 
Especially  is  it  a  great,  a  divine  art,  to  do  this  in  reference 
to  our  sin  and  guilt.  Who  shall  teach  us,  when  remorse 
bites,  and  anxiety  respecting  the  last  account  weighs  us 
down — who  shall  teach  us  how  to  believe  in  Christ,  the 
Lamb  of  God,  without  a  scintilla  of  doubt,  with  an  abso- 
lute and  undivided  confidence  ?  He  Himself  must  do  this. 
He  is  the  author  and  the  finisher  of  faith. 


SERMON  XI. 

THE  REALITY  OF  HEAVEN. 


John  xiv.  2. — "In  my  Father's  honse  are  many  mansions:    if  it 
were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you." 


All  Scripture  is  profitable,  and  conduces  to  the  growth 
of  the  Christian.  But  some  portions  of  it  seem  to  be 
more  particularly  adapted  than  others  to  certain  stages  of 
his  growth  in  the  divine  life,  and  certain  experiences  in 
his  history.  In  the  season  of  affliction,  the  heart  loves  to 
give  itself  utterance  in  the  mourning  and  plaints  of  the 
afflicted  Psalmist.  In  the  hour  of  joy,  it  pours  forth  the 
flood  of  its  thanksgiving  and  praise  in  the  songs  and  an- 
thems of  the  joyful  Psalmist.  If  the  believer  feels  the 
need  of  instruction  and  exhortation,  he  turns  to  the  ful- 
ness and  earnestness  of  the  apostolic  Epistles.  If  he  needs 
encouragement  and  hopefulness  in  view  of  the  sin  and  mis- 
ery of  the  human  race,  he  listens  to  the  voice  of  the 
Prophets  saying :  "  As  the  earth  bringeth  forth  her  bud, 
and  as  the  garden  causeth  the  things  that  are  sown  in  it  to 
spring  forth :  so  the  Lord  God  will  cause  righteousness  and 
peace  to  spring  forth  before  all  nations." 

If,  however,  a  singular  interest  attaches  to  any  one  por- 
tion of  the  Bible  more  than  to  others,  it  is  found  in  the 
Gospels.     These  parts  breathe  a  peculiar  spirit,  and  exert 


168  THE   REALITY   OF  HEAVEN. 

an  uncommon  influence  upon  the  soul.  The  Christian 
often  resorts  to  them,  for  they  bring  him  into  the  personal 
presence  of  his  Lord,  and  his  spirit  burns  within  him  as 
Christ  talks  with  him  on  the  way  to  heaven.  He  enters 
into  the  house  with  his  Master,  and  walks  with  him  by 
the  sea  shore,  and  hears  words  that  come  directly  from  the 
month  of  God  incarnate.  He  is  thus  brought  near  to  the 
Infinite  Being  without  trembling  or  terror,  because  the  in- 
finitude and  glory  are  enshrouded  in  the  garments  of 
meekness  and  condescension.  That  awful  fear  of  God  as 
the  Dread  Unknown,  which  throws  such  a  sombre  color 
over  the  religions  of  the  pagan  world,  is  banished ;  for 
Christ  is  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father,  and  full  of  grace 
and  truth.  By  means  of  the  Gospels,  the  believer  con- 
verses with  the  Eternal  One,  as  a  man  converses  with  his 
friend. 

And  of  the  Gospels,  that  of  John  is  the  most  full  of 
this  kind  of  influence.  He  was  the  beloved  disciple,  and 
his  is  the  beloved  Gospel.  He  seems  to  have  had  granted 
to  him  a  more  direct  and  clear  vision  of  the  heart  of  the 
Redeemer,  than  was  allowed  to  the  other  disciples.  He 
leaned  upon  his  breast  at  supper,  and  appears  to  have  at- 
tained a  fuller  knowledge  than  did  the  others,  of  the  mys- 
terious and  fathomless  nature  of  the  God-man. 

l^ot  only  does  this  Gospel  present  to  the  contemplation 
of  the  believer  themes  of  love  and  grace,  but  it  everywhere 
offers  to  the  human  intellect  the  highest  themes  of  truth 
and  unsearchable  wisdom.  Its  exordium  is  mysterious; 
revealing,  in  a  way  that  no  other  part  of  Scripture  does, 
the  doctrine  of  the  Triune  God,  and  giving  the  fullest  un- 
folding of  the  mystery  that  has  yet  been  granted  to  the 
finite  mind.  And,  running  through  the  whole  narrative, 
there  is  a  series  of  high  and  deep  disclosures  concerning 
the  being  of  God,  and  the  problems  of  human  destiny,  that 


THE  REALITY   OF   HEAVEN.  169 

renders  this  Gospel  the  most  profound  of  all  books.'  At 
the  same  time,  while  it  is  unsearchably  mysterious,  it  is 
wonderfully  soothing  in  its  influence  upon  the  soul.  Like 
the  Holy  Ghost,  it  may  well  be  called  the  "  Comforter." 
Full  of  deep  wisdom,  and  full  of  deep  love ;  full  of  mys- 
tery, and  full  of  quickening  instruction  ;  full  of  the  awf ul- 
ness  and  infinitude  of  Deity,  and  full  of  the  beauty  and 
winning  grace  of  a  perfect  humanity  ;  the  Gospel  of  John 
will  ever  be  the  solace  and  joy  of  the  Christian  in  his  lofti- 
est and  lowliest  moods.  He  will  always  feel  the  truthful- 
ness of  the  language  in  which  the  childlike  Claudius  de- 
scribes his  emotions  while  perusing  this  Gospel :  "  I  have 
from  my  youth  up  delighted  to  read  the  Bible,  but 
especially  the  Gospel  of  John.  There  is  something  in  it 
exceedingly  wonderful ;  twilight  and  night,  and  through 
them  the  quick  flash  of  lightning ;  soft  evening-clouds, 
and  behind  the  clouds,  the  full-orbed  moon.  There  is 
something,  also,  so  high,  and  mysterious,  and  solemn,  that 
one  cannot  become  weary.  It  seems  to  me  in  reading  the 
Gospel  of  John,  as  if  I  saw  him  at  the  last  supper  leaning 
upon  the  breast  of  his  Master,  and  as  if  an  angel  were 
holding  my  lamp,  and  at  certain  passages  wished  to  whis- 
per something  in  my  ear.  I  am  far  from  understanding 
all  that  1  read  ;  yet  it  seems  as  if  the  meaning  were  hover- 
ing in  the  distance  before  my  mind's  eye.  And  even  when 
I  look  into  an  entirely  dark  passage,  I  have  an  intimation 
of  a  great  and  glorious  meaning  within  it  which  I  shall 
one  day  understand."  ^ 

Among  the  varied  moods  that  are  addressed  and 
comforted  by  the  teaching  of  the  Gospel  of  John,  is  that 

'  Bengel  remarks  of  Johu  xvii.  :  *•  This  chapter,  of  all  the  chapters  in 
Scripture,  is  the  easiest  in  reg^r4  to  the  words,  the  most  profound  in  re- 
gard to  the  ideas  meant." 

2  Claudius;  Werke,  Bd.  I.  9. 
8 


170  THE   REALITY   OF  HEAVEN. 

timorous  and  desponding  temper  which  is  produced  by  the 
fear  of  an  exchange  of  worlds.  Nothing  contributes  more 
directly  to  calm  and  assure  the  mind,  than  meditation 
upon  those  last  discourses  of  our  Lord  which  speak  in  such 
a  majestic  and  sublime  tone,  and  yet  breathe  a  gracious, 
benign,  and  tranquillizing  spirit.  In  them,  the  Eternal 
and  Divine  is  strangely  blended  with  the  Finite  and 
Human  ;  so  that  the  soul  which  receives  their  warm  im- 
pression is  both  inspired  with  confidence  in  the  Almighty 
Teacher,  and  love  for  the  human  friend.  It  is  related 
that  a  strong  and  mighty  mind  on  drawing  near  to  the 
confines  of  eternity,  and  feeling  the  need  of  some  unearthly 
and  celestial  support  when  flesh  and  heart  were  failing, 
was  reminded  by  a  friend  of  the  beauty  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  of  those  general  characteristics  of  revelation  which  so 
often  blind  the  eye  to  the  more  special  and  peculiar  truths 
of  Christianity.  He  made  answer — hastily  interrupting 
his  friend — "  Tell  me  not  of  the  beauties  of  the  Bible.  I 
would  give  more  for  the  seventeenth  chapter  of  John's 
Gospel  than  for  all  of  them." 

In  meditating  upon  the  utterance  of  our  Lord  recorded 
by  St.  John  in  the  text,  let  us  notice,  in  the  first  place,  the 
familiar  acquaintance  with  the  heavenly  world  which  is 
indicated  by  the  words  :  "  My  Father's  house ; "  secondly, 
the  definiteness  of  this  world  denoted  by  the  words: 
"  Many  mansions  ;  "  and,  thirdly,  its  reality  taught  in  the 
assertion  :  "  If  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you." 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  words,  "  My  Father's  house," 
betoken  the  most  'n\i\n\2iie  fmniliarity  with  heaven.  It  is 
the  home  of  Christ,  Nothing  more  conclusively  evinces 
the  difference  between  Jesus  Christ  and  other  men  who 
have  lived  and  died  upon  the  earth,  than  the  confidence 
and  certainty  with  which  he  spoke  of  the  invisible  world. 
Not  only  is  there  no  doubt  or  hesitation  in  his  views  as 


THE  EEALITY   OF  HEAVEN.  171 

expressed  in  his  language,  but  there  is  no  ignorance.  He 
never  says :  "  Now  I  know  in  part,"  On  the  contrary,  we 
feel  that  he  knew  much  more  than  he  has  disclosed  ;  and 
that  if  he  had  chosen  to  do  so,  he  could  have  made  yet 
more  specific  revelations  concerning  the  solemn  world  be- 
yond the  tomb.  For  all  other  men,  there  are  two  worlds 
— the  one  here  and  the  other  beyond.  Their  utterances 
respecting  this  visible  and  tangible  sphere  are  positive  and 
certain ;  but  respecting  the  invisible  realm  they  guess,  and 
they  hope,  or  they  doubt  altogether.  But  for  our  Lord, 
there  was,  practically,  only  one  world.  He  is  as  certain  in 
respect  to  the  invisible  as  to  the  visible  ;  and  knows  as  fully 
concerning  tlie  one  as  the  other.  No  mind  unassisted  by 
revelation  ever  reached  the  pitch  of  faith  in  the  unseen 
and  eternal  that  was  attained  by  Socrates.  But  he  was 
assailed  by  doubts ;  and  he  confesses  his  ignorance  of  the 
region  beyond  the  tomb.  After  that  lofty  and  solemn 
description  in  the  Phsedo  (113, 114)  of  the  different  places 
assigned  after  death,  to  the  good,  the  incorrigibly  bad, 
and  those  who  have  led  a  middle  life  between  the  two,  he 
adds :  "  To  affirm  positivel}^,  indeed,  that  these  things  are 
exactly  as  I  have  described  them,  does  not  become  a  man 
of  discernment.  But  that  either  this  or  something  of  the 
kind  takes  place  in  regard  to  our  souls  and  their  habitation 
— seeing  that  the  soul  is  evidently  immortal ' — appears  to 
me  most  fitting  to  be  believed,  and  worthy  of  hazard  for 
one  who  trusts  in  the  reality.  For  the  hazard  is  noble, 
and  it  is  right  to  charm  ourselves  with  such  views  as  with 
enchantments."  How  different  is  the  impression  made 
upon  us  by  these  noble  but  hesitating  words,  from  that 
which  was  made  upon  John  the  Baptist  by  our  Lord's 


'  ^aiVerai  oZaa  iddvarov.     SaysVigerus,  in  loco,  (paivofiai  often  has  a 
signification  of  certainty. 


172  THE   BEALITY   OF   HEAVEN. 

manner  and  teaching  upon  such  points,  as  indicated  in  his 
testimony  :  "  He  that  cometh  from  above,  is  above  all :  he 
that  is  of  the  earth  is  earthly,  and  speaketh  of  the  earth : 
he  that  cometh  from  heaven  is  above  all :  and  what  lie 
hath  seen  and  heard,  that  he  testifieth."  Howj^ifferent  is 
Plato's  dimness  of  perception,  and  only  hopeful  conjecture 
respecting  another  life,  from  the  calm  and  authoritative 
utterance  of  Him  who  said  to  Nicodemus :  "  We  speak 
that  we  do  know,  and  testify  that  we  have  seen.  And  no 
man  hath  ascended  up  to  heaven  but  he  that  came  down 
from  heaven,  even  the  Son  of  man  who  is  in  heaven."  How 
different  is  the  utterance  of  the  human  philosopher  from 
that  of  Him  who  said  to  the  cavilling  Jews  :  "  I  am  from 
above,  ye  are  from  beneath ;  I  go  my  way,  and  whither 
I  go  ye  cannot  come ;  I  proceeded  forth,  and  came  from 
God  ;  Doth  this  offend  you  ?  What  and  if  ye  shall  see  the 
Son  of  man  ascend  up  where  he  was  before  ? "  How  dif- 
ferent are  the  words  of  Socrates  from  the  language  of  Him 
who  in  a  solemn  prayer  to  the  Eternal  God  spake  the 
words,  blasphemous  if  falling  from  the  lips  of  any  merely 
finite  being :  "  O  Father,  glorify  thou  me  with  thine  own 
self,  with  the  glory  which  I  had  with  thee  before  the 
world  was."  Christ,  then,  speaks  of  heaven  and  immortal 
life  as  an  eye-witness.  The  eternal  world  was  no  "  dim, 
undiscovered  country  "  for  him  ;  and  therefore  his  words 
and  tones  are  those  of  one  who  was  "native,  and  to  the 
manner  born." 

There  are  periods  in  the  believer's  life  when  he  needs 
to  cling  hold  of  this  fact,  that  his  perturbation  may  be 
calmed.  The  viewless  world  of  spirit  has  never  been  en- 
tered by  any  mortal  who  has  been  permitted  to  return 
and  divulge  its  secrets.  So  long  as  man  is  in  the  ilesh, 
and  accustomed  only  to  objects  of  sense,  it  is  a  most  baf- 
fling and  mysterious  world  for  him,  and  a  shadowy  solem- 


THE  REALITY   OF  HEAVEN.  173 

nity  invests  it.  He  is  not  familiar  with  its  scenes  and 
objects.  Nay,  he  is  so  habituated  to  that  which  can  be 
seen  and  handled,  that  the  very  terms  "  spirit "  and  "  spir- 
itual "  have  come  to  denote  the  vague,  the  unknown,  the 
unfamiliar,  and  the  fearful.  Without  Revelation,  the 
world  beyond  is  eminently  a  "  dim,  undiscovered  country." 
The  Ancients,  it  is  true,  peopled  it  with  the  shades  of  the 
departed,  and  divided  it  into  the  regions  of  the  blest  and 
the  regions  of  the  unblest ;  but  they  still  felt  it  to  be  an 
unknown  land,  and  a  dark,  mysterious  air  veiled  it  from 
their  vision.  The  dying  heathen,  notwithstanding  the 
popular  faith  and  the  popular  teachings  respecting  the 
future  life,  dreaded  to  go  over  into  it,  not  merely  because 
of  the  guilt  in  his  conscience  which  caused  him  to  fear  a 
righteous  retribution,  but  also  because  of  his  uncertainty 
and  ignorance.  He  turned  his  glazing,  dying  eye  back  to 
the  visible  world,  and  longed  for  the  continuance  of  a  life 
which,  though  it  was  full  of  unsatisf action  and  wretched- 
ness, was  yet  invested  with  clearness  and  familiarity.*  He 
recoiled  at  the  prospect  of  being  hurried  away  from  the 
bright  sunlight,  and  the '  green  earth,  into  the  obscurity 
and  darkness  of  the  world  of  shades.  The  pagan  or  in- 
stinctive view  of  death,  and  the  future  world,  is  vividly 
delineated  by  the  great  dramatic  poet  in  the  feeling  utter- 
ance of  Claudio  : 

"  Ay,  but  to  die,  and  go  we  know  not  where ; 
To  lie  in  cold  obstruction,  and  to  rot ; 
This  sensible  warm  motion  to  become 
A  kneaded  clod  ;  and  the  delighted  spirit 


'  Says  Achilles  to  Ulysses  in  the  lower  regions  :  "Speak  not  auothi^T 
word  of  comfort  concerning  death,  O  noble  Ulysses  !  I  would  far  rather 
till  the  field  as  a  day  laborer,  a  needy  man  without  inheritance  or  prop- 
erty, than  rule  over  the  whole  realm  of  the  departed. " — Odyssey  XI. 
488. 


174  THE   KEALITY   OF   HEAVEN. 

To  bathe  in  fiery  floods,  or  to  reside 

In  thrilling  regions  of  thick-ribbed  ice  ; 

To  be  imprisoned  in  the  viewless  winds, 

And  blown  with  restless  violence  round  about 

The  pendent  world  ;  or  to  be  worse  than  worst 

Of  those,  that  lawless  and  uncertain  thoughts 

Imagine  howling  !  'tis  too  horrible  ! 

The  weariest  and  most  loathed  worldly  life 

That  age,  ache,  penury,  and  imprisonment 

Can  lay  on  nature  is  a  paradise 

To  what  we  fear  of  death." 

Although  man  enlightened  by  Revelation  has  a  much 
more  definite  knowledge  respecting  the  future  life,  he  is 
not  entirely  divested  of  this  sense  of  uncertainty  about  his 
future  existence.  Though  the  gospel  has  brought  life  and 
immortality  to  light ;  has  shot  some  rays  into  the  gloom 
of  eternity ;  man  still  feels  that  it  is  an  unfamiliar  world. 
How  and  what  he  shall  be  when  his  spirit  is  disembodied, 
he  knows  not.  He  is  ignorant  of  the  mode  of  existence 
upon  the  other  side  of  the  tomb.  Living  in  the  light  of 
Christianity,  knowing  certainly  that  there  is  another  world 
than  this,  and  that  Christ  came  out  from  it  and  dwelt  for 
a  time  in  this  world,  and  then  "  ascended  up  where  he  was 
before,"  man  is  still  filled  with  some  of  the  dread  that 
overshadows  the  heathen,  and  like  liim  clings  with  earnest- 
ness and  nervousness  to  this  visible  and  diurnal  sphere. 
And  for  many  men  dwelling  in  Christendom,  the  other 
reason  for  dread  that  exists  in  the  case  of  the  pagan  is  also 
existing.  The  merely  nominal  Christian,  like  the  pagan, 
knows  that  there  is  unpardoned  sin  upon  the  soul,  and  the 
pale  realms  of  eternity  are  therefore,  as  were  the  gates  of 
paradise  for  the  departing  Adam  and  Eve, 

"  With  dreadful  faces  thronged,  and  fiery  arms." 
Though  the  believer  ought  to  be  raised  by  his  faith 


THE   KEALITY   OF  HEAVEINT.  175 

above  all  these  fears,  and  the  future  life  should  be  familiar 
as  his  own  home  to  him,  yet  he  is  often  conscious  of  un- 
certainty and  misgiving  when  he  thinks  of  an  exchange  of 
worlds.  He  cannot  at  all  times  confidently  say :  "  It  is 
my  Father's  house."  He  has  little  positive  hope  and 
desire  to  enter  it.  He  does  not  steadily  and  habitually 
seek  a  better  country,  even  a  heavenly.  He,  too  often, 
clings  to  life  with  anxiety,  and  the  summons  to  depart 
sends  perturbation  and  trembling  through  his  soul.  It  is 
a  mysterious  world,  and  although  he  professes  to  have  a 
God  and  Kedeemer  within  it,  yet  he  fears  to  enter. 

'Now  the  words  of  our  Savior :  '•  My  Father's  house," 
should  calm  and  encourage  us.  We  should  believe  with  a 
simple  and  unquestioning  faith,  that  they  really  indicate 
the  nature  of  the  spiritual  world  for  the  Christian — that 
eternity  for  the  disciple  of  Christ  is  Jiome.  They  should 
also  invest  the  future  world  with  clearness  and  familiarity. 
It  should  not  be  for  us  a  vague  and  mystical  realm,  but 
our  most  cheerful  home-thoughts  should  gather  around  it ; 
we  should  cherish  the  home-feeling  regarding  it ;  and  to 
our  inward  eye,  it  should  present  the  distinctness  and  at- 
tractions of  a  father's  house.  That  this  may  be  the  case 
with  us,  it  is  not  in  the  least  necessary  to  know  the  exact 
mode  of  our  future  existence.  It  is  enough  to  know  that 
the  "  Lord  Jesus  Christ  shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it 
may  be  fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body,  according  to 
the  energy  whereby  he  is  able  even  to  subdue  all  things 
unto  himself."  It  is  enough  to  know  that  "  when  he  shall 
appear,  we  shall  be  like  him :  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he 
is."  We  need  only  to  believe  the  words  of  our  Savior : 
"  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions."  We  need 
nothing  but  that  unquestioning  spirit  which  rests  upon  the 
word  and  power  of  an  omniscient  God  and  Redeemer,  and 
which  commends  itself  to  the  guardianship  of  Him  who 


176  THE   REALITY    OF   HEAVEN. 

has  promised  to  be  with  his  Church,  and  with  every  mem- 
ber of  it,  "  always,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 

II.  In  the  second  place,  we  are  to  notice  the  definiteness 
of  the  spiritual  world,  indicated  by  the  words :  "  Many 
mansions."  This  language  does  not  denote  a  dim,  airy  im- 
mensity ;  an  unlimited  ether  in  which  the  disembodied 
spirits  shall  wander ;  a  shadowy  realm  in  which  ghosts 
pale  and  silent  shall  flit  to  and  fro,  like  bats  in  twilight. 
Our  spirits  are  finite  and  individual,  and  we  start  back  at 
the  thought  of  a  dreamy  existence  diffused  through  a 
vague  and  indefinite  infinitude.  We  recoil  at  the  thought 
of  a  fluctuating  and  unfixed  mode  of  being.  Though  flesh 
and  blood  cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  we  ought 
not  to  look  for  the  material  objects  of  this  planet  in  a 
spiritual  world,  yet  both  Scripture  and  the  profound  in- 
stincts of  our  minds  affirm  a  body  for  the  clothing  of  our 
spirits,  and  a  definite  residence  adapted  to  it.  There  is 
that  within  us  which  dreads  a  slumbering  and  uncertain 
mode  of  being.  We  are  persons,  and  we  instinctively  de- 
sire the  existence  of  a  person,  and  a  dwelling-place  amidst 
personal  relationships  and  circumstances. 

The  phrase  "  many  mansions  "  denotes  that  there  is  a 
definite  and  appropriate  residence  beyond  the  tomb,  for 
our  finite  and  distinctly  personal  spirits ;  a  residence  in 
which  they  can  unfold  their  powers  in  a  well-defined  and 
self-conscious  manner  ;  in  which  they  can  think,  and  know, 
and  feel  as  vividly  as  they  do  here  ;  in  which  as  happy 
individualities  they  can  look  upon  the  face  of  a  personal 
God  and  worship  him ;  in  which  as  blessed  intelligences 
they  can  apprehend  his  excellence,  and  glorify  him  for- 
evermore. 

With  all  the  spirituality  with  which  the  Word  of  God 
describes  the  abodes  of  the  blest,  there  is  imited  a  remark- 
able clearness.     In  all  other  books,  the  great  hereafter 


THE  REALITY   OF   HEAVEN.  177 

looks  dim,  strange,  and  forbidding ;  but  in  the  Bible  it 
appears  real,  natural,  and  life-like.  In  representing  the 
kingdom  of  God  as  spiritual,  Kevelation  keeps  in  view  the 
wants  of  a  finite  creature,  and  therefore  heaven  is  where 
the  face  of  God  shines  with  a  more  effulgent  brightness 
than  elsewhere,  and  where  there  is  the  most  marked  and 
impressive  consciousness  of  his  presence.  There  are 
times,  even  in  the  Christian  life  upon  earth,  when  the  veil 
is  partially  withdrawn,  and  that  august  Being  whom  man 
is  prone  to  picture  to  himself  as  like  the  all-pervading  air, 
or  the  mystic  principle  of  life  in  nature,  reveals  speaking 
lineaments,  and  a  living  eye  that  meets  his  eye  ;  moments 
when  the  finite  spirit  meets  the  Infinite  face  to  face,  and 
glances  of  Divine  love  and  approbation  send  ineffable 
peace  through  it.  And  such,  only  in  a  perfect  degree, 
will  be  the  relation  which  the  believer  will  sustain  to  God 
in  the  future  life.  He  will  see  Him  as  He  is.  He  will  be 
a  child,  and  God  will  be  a  Father.  His  existence  will 
be  that  of  distinct  and  blessed  self-consciousness.  He 
will  dwell  in  "  mansions." 

III.  In  the  third  place,  we  are  to  note  the  reality  of  the 
heavenly  world,  denoted  by  the  remark  of  our  Lord  :  "  If 
it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you." 

Man,  here  below,  lives  so  entirely  among  sensible  things, 
and  meditates  so  little  upon  spiritual  objects,  that  he  comes 
to  look  upon  that  which  is  spiritual  as  unreal,  and  upon 
material  things  as  the  only  realities.  For  most  men, 
houses,  and  lands,  and  gold  are  more  real  than  God  and 
the  soul.  The  former  address  the  five  senses,  whereas 
"  no  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time,"  and  the  soul  is  not 
apprehensible  by  any  sensuous  organ.  Yet  the  invisible 
God  is  more  real  than  any  other  being,  for  he  is  the  cause 
and  ground  of  all  other  existence.  It  was  an  invisible 
Mind  that  made  the  material  chaos  from  nothing,  and 
8* 


178  THE   KEALITY   OF  HEAVEN. 

brooded  over  it,  and  formed  it  into  an  orderly  and  beauti- 
ful cosmos.  The  invisible  is  more  firmly  substantial  than 
the  visible.  "  The  things  which  are  seen  were  not  made 
of  things  which  are  seen  ;  the  things  which  are  seen  are 
temporal,  but  the  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." 
Still,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  mankind  reverse  all  this,  and 
look  upon  spiritual  things  and  the  invisible  world  as  very 
unreal  and  phantom-like.  They  do  not  have  sufficient 
faith  in  an  unseen  future  life,  to  live  for  it ;  and  they  do 
not  regard  it  as  so  real  and  important,  that  their  whole 
earthly  existence  should  be  devoted  to  a  preparation  for  it. 
Kow,  it  is  from  such  a  mass  of  earthly  and  sensuous  men, 
holding  such  views  of  the  invisible,  that  the  Christian  is 
taken.  He  is  born  into  the  new  spiritual  kingdom,  and 
professes  to  believe  that  God  is,  and  that  the  soul  verily 
is,  and  that  heaven  and  hell  are  everlasting  realities ;  but 
still  the  views  and  mental  habits  of  the  old  carnal  nature 
cling  to  him.  He  finds  it  difficult  to  live  habitually  with 
reference  to  eternity,  to  be  continually  conscious  of  the 
presence  of  God,  and  to  act  with  an  unwavering  certainty 
of  heaven.  He  is  still  much  possessed  by  the  spirit  of  this 
world,  too  frequently  he  finds  his  home  among  its  vanities, 
and  he  attaches  too  much  value  to  its  objects.  Hence, 
when  the  prospect  of  an  entrance  into  eternity  opens  be- 
fore him,  he  feels  unprepared.  He  needs  time  that  he 
may  fix  his  thoughts  upon  God  and  invisible  things,  in 
order  to  realize  that  God  is,  and  feel  that  he  is  going  into 
a  world  more  solid  and  satisfying  than  the  one  he  is  leav- 
ing. He  has  lived  too  carnal  a  life ;  he  is  not  so  spirit- 
ually minded  as  he  should  be,  and  his  conversation  has  not 
habitually  been  in  heaven;  and  therefore  it  seems  to  him 
as  if  he  were  entering  a  cheerless  and  ghostly  realm. 
Thus  the  unfaithful  Christian  is  surprised  by  death,  and 
perturbation  comes  over  him  as  he  lies  down  to  die.     He 


THE   EEALITY   OF   HEAVEN.  179 

is  not  so  much  at  home  in  eternity  as  he  is  in  time  ;  and 
hence  he  is  in  bondage  to  the  fear  of  death,  and  shrinks 
from  the  exchange  of  worlds. 

One  remedy  for  such  a  state  of  mind,  for  such  a  practi- 
cal unbelief  in  God  and  heaven,  is  to  be  found  in  medita- 
tion upon  the  words  of  Him  who  came  down  from  heaven, 
and  who  is  in  heaven.  "  If  it  were  not  so,"  says  our  Lord, 
"  if  there  were  not  many  mansions  in  heaven  ;  if  it  were 
not  my  home,  and  the  home  of  my  Father,  and  of  the  holy 
angels,  and  of  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect;  I 
would  have  told  you,  I  would  have  undeceived  you."  This 
is  the  language  of  the  Redeemer  to  his  disciples,  spoken 
that  they  might  not  be  troubled  or  afraid  at  the  prospect 
of  his  departure  from  them  to  God,  or  at  the  thought  of 
their  own  departure  out  of  this  world.  This  voice  of  his 
sounds  encouragement,  through  all  ages,  to  the  body  of 
believers.  It  issues  from  the  "  mansions  "  of  heaven,  and 
for  aU  who  hear  it,  it  is  a  voice  that  cheers  and  animates. 
It  comes  forth  from  the  invisible  world,  and  bids  the 
Christian  prepare  to  enter  it ;  to  expect  the  entrance  with 
a  hopeful  and  cheerful  temper  ;  nay,  to  be  longing  for  the 
time  when  he  shall  go  into  the  presence  of  God  unclothed 
of  the  mortal  and  sinful,  and  clothed  upon  with  the  im- 
mortal and  the  holy. 

It  is  evident  from  this  unfolding  of  the  subject,  that  the 
Christian  needs  an  increase  of  faith.  If  he  profoundly  be- 
lieved that  God  is  his  Father,  and  loves  him  ;  that  Christ 
is  his  Saviour,  and  intercedes  for  him  ;  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  his  Sanctifier,  and  dwells  in  his  heart — if  he  pro- 
foundly believed  what  the  Word  of  God  commands  him  to 
believe,  that  all  the  mercy  and  power  of  the  triune  God- 
head is  working  out  the  eternal  salvation  of  his  soul,  and 
that  the  Godhead  dwells  in  a  real  and  blessed  world,  and 
is  preparing  him  for  an  entrance  into  it  that  he  may  be  a 


180  THE   REALITY   OF  HEAVEN. 

priest  and  a  king  there  forever — if  he  believed  this  with 
an  undoiibting  and  abiding  faith,  he  would  go  through  this 
life  "tasting  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come."  And 
when  the  hour  came  to  depart  hence,  he  would  leap  for 
joy  because  his  salvation  draws  nigh  ;  because  he  is  soon 
to  experience  the  truth  of  that  glowing  declaration  :  "  Eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into 
the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  the  things  that  God  hath  pre- 
pared for  them  that  love  him." 

We  should  therefore  pray,  as  did  the  disciples  of  our 
Lord,  for  an  increase  of  faith ;  and  we  should  cultivate 
this  particular  habit  and  grace.  Let  us  fix  these  particu- 
lar truths  and  facts  in  our  minds,  and  habitually  ponder 
them :  That  heaven  is  a  reality,  if  it  were  not,  Christ 
would  have  told  his  followers  so ;  that  the  dwelling-place 
of  God  must  be  an  actual  and  happy  abode  ;  that  our 
Father'a^.  house  is  adapted  to  the  wants  and  capacities  of 
our  finite  personal  spirits;  and  that  its  "  mansions  "  are 
open  to  receive  them  when  they  leave  the  body.  Let  us 
believe  and  doubt  not,  that  for  all  who  are  in  Christ  there 
is  an  ineffable  blessedness  in  reserve,  and  that  it  will  never 
end  ;  that  all  who  sleep  in  Jesus  shall  "  with  open  eye  be- 
hold the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  be  changed  into  the  same 
image  from  glory  to  glory  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord." 


SEEMON  XIL 

PUEE  MOTIVES  THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  SOUL. 


Matthew  vi.  22. — "  The  light  of  the  body  is  the  eye  ;  if  therefore 
thine  eye  be  single,  thy  whole  body  shall  be  full  of  light." 


The  human  eye  is  the  most  striking  and  expressive 
feature  in  the  human  constitution.  Of  all  the  physical 
organs,  it  is  the  one  that  is  closest  to  the  soul.  Though 
composed  of  flesh  and  hlood,  of  muscles  and  tissues — the 
toughest  of  muscles,  and  the  most  reticulated  of  tissues — 
it  nevertheless  seems  to  be  half  spiritual  and  immaterial. 
A  man's  hand,  a  man's  foot,  is  hard  matter,  is  solid  stupid 
flesh  and  blood ;  but  a  man's  eye  gleams  with  ethereal  fire, 
and  his  very  soul  radiates  from  it.  The  science  of  phren- 
ology seeks  the  mind  in  the  skull ;  but  it  would  have  been 
more  successful  in  deducing  human  character  from  the 
physical  structure,  if  it  had  studied  that  organ  of  vision 
which  is  always  instinct  with  the  soul  and  the  soul's  life. 
The  skull  of  some  animals  approximates  in  its  form  to 
that  of  man  ;  as  the  many  attempts  to  trace  a  connection 
between  man  and  the  brute  prove.  But  no  brute's  eye 
approximates  in  its  expression  to  that  of  the  human  being. 
The  eye  of  the  ox  is  large,  liquid,  and  soft ;  and  the  old 
Greek  called  the  queen  of  the  Olympian  heavens  the  "  ox- 
eyed  Juno."  But  there  is  no  morality,  no  human  intelli- 
gence, and  no  human  affection,  in  it.     The  ideas  of  God, 


182  PUEE  MOTIVES   THE 

and  law,  and  conscience,  are  not  written  in  the  eje-ball  of 
the  ox  as  they  are  in  that  of  every  living  man.  Look 
into  the  eye  of  the  faitliful  dog,  or  the  patient  ox,  and 
you  perceive  a  blank  in  reference  to  all  that  higher  range 
of  being,  and  that  higher  class  of  ideas,  which  lies  at  the 
basis  of  accountability  and  religion.  But  look  into  the 
eye  of  the  African  or  the  Esquimaux,  and  through  all 
the  d Illness  and  torpor  there  gleams  out  upon  you  an  ex- 
pression, a  glance,  that  betokens  that  this  creature  is  not  a 
mere  animal,  but  is  moral,  is  rational,  is  human. 

"  The  light  of  the  body,"  says  our  Lord  in  the  text,  "  is 
the  eye."  This  is  a  strong  statement.  Our  Lord  does 
not  say  that  the  eye  is  the  instrument  by  which  light  is 
perceived,  but  that  it  is  the  light  itself.  And  there  cer- 
tainly is  a  striking  resemblance  between  the  nature  of  the 
eye  and  that  of  light.  The  eye  is  adapted  and  precon- 
formed  to  the  solar  ray.  The  crystalline  lens,  the  watery 
humor,  the  tense  silvery  coating — everything  that  enters 
into  the  structure  of  this  wonderful  instrument  of  vision — 
has  resemblances  and  alBnities  with  that  lucid  shining  ele- 
ment, the  light  of  the  sun.  Plotinus  long  ago  remarked 
that  the  eye  could  not  see  the  sun,  unless  it  had  some- 
thing solar,  or  sun-like,  in  its  own  composition.  Mere 
opaque  flesh  and  blood  has  no  power  of  vision.  We  can- 
not see  with  the  hand  or  the  foot.  In  this  sense,  then, 
the  eye  is  the  light  of  the  body.  The  original  Greek  word 
{Xv^i^os:)  in  the  text,  which  is  translated  light,  litei-ally 
signifies  a  lamp.  The  human  eye  is  a  burning  lamp  placed 
inside  of  the  human  body,  like  a  candle  behind  a  trans- 
parency, by  which  this  "  muddy  vesture  of  decay,"  this 
dark  opaque  materialism  of  the  human  frame  is  lighted 
up.  "  The  lamp  of  the  body  is  the  eye  ;  therefore  when 
thine  eye  is  single,  thy  whole  body  also  is  full  of  light; 
but  when  thine  eye  is  evil,  thy  body  also  is  full  of  dark- 


LIGHT  OF  THE   SOUL.  183 

ness.  If  thy  whole  body,  therefore,  be  full  of  light, 
having  no  part  dark,  the  whole  shall  be  full  of  light,  as 
when  the  bright  shining  of  a  candle  doth  give  thee  light." 
(Luke  xi.  34,  36.) 

But  in  employing  this  illustration  it  was  not  the  pur- 
pose of  our  Lord  to  teach  optics.  It  is  true  that  his  words 
agree  incidentally  with  optical  investigation ;  even  as  all 
the  incidental  teachings  of  Revelation  concerning  the 
material  universe  will  be  found  to  harmonize  with  the 
facts,  when  they  shall  finally  be  discovered  by  the  groping 
and  disputing  naturalist.  But  the  Son  of  God  became  in- 
carnate for  a  higher  object  than  to  teach  the  natural 
sciences.  Our  Lord's  casual  allusions  to  the  structui-e  of 
earth,  and  of  man,  are  made  only  for  the  purpose  of 
throwing  light  upon  a  more  mysterious  organization  than 
that  of  the  human  eye,  and  of  solving  problems  infinitely 
more  important  than  any  that  relate  to  the  laws  and  pro- 
cesses of  the  perishing  material  universe. 

The  great  Teacher,  in  his  Sermon  on  the  Mount  from 
which  the  text  is  taken,  had  been  enjoining  it  upon  his 
disciples  to  live  not  for  time  but  for  eternity.  "  Lay  not 
up  for  yourselves  treasures  upon  earth,  where  moth  and 
rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  break  through  and 
steal.  But  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven, 
where  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where 
thieves  do  not  break  through  nor  steal.  For  where  your 
treasure  is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also."  (Matt.  vi.  19- 
21.)  This  devotion  to  the  concerns  and  realities  of  another 
and  better  world  than  this,  Christ  also  tells  his  disciples, 
must  be  single-minded  and  absorbing.  "  No  man  can 
serve  two  masters ;  for  either  he  will  hate  the  one,  and 
love  the  other,  or  else  he  will  hold  to  the  one,  and  despise 
the  other.  Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  Mammon."  (Matt, 
vi.  24.)    The  illustration  borrowed  from  the  human  eye 


184  PURE   MOTIVES  THE 

comes  between  these  two  thoughts,  in  St.  Matthew's  re- 
port of  our  Lord's  instructions  to  his  disciples ;  showing 
that  by  it,  he  intended  to  ilhistrate  and  enforce  the  neces- 
sity of  singleness  of  purpose  in  the  Christian  life  and 
profession.  As  the  eye  must  not  see  double,  but  must  be 
"  single,"  in  order  that  the  body  may  be  full  of  light ; 
so  there  must  be  no  double-mind,  no  wavering  purpose, 
no  impure  motive,  if  the  Christian  would  not  walk  in 
darkness. 

We  are,  therefore,  led  by  the  connection  of  thought  in 
our  Lord's  discourse,  to  consider  the  clear,  luminous,  and 
crystalline  eye  as  a  symbol  of  a  pure,  sincere,  and  single 
motive.  And  we  propose  in  two  particulars,  to  show  that 
as  the  eye  is  the  light  of  the  body,  BOjmre  motives  are  the 
light  of  the  soul. 

By  a  pure  motive  is  meant  one  that  is  founded  in  a  sin- 
cere desire  to  honor  God.  Christian  men  are  sometimes 
troubled  to  know  whether  their  purposes  and  intentions 
are  upright.  They  fear  that  they  are  sinister,  and  mixed 
with  corruption.  But  the  test  is  easy  and  sure.  Let  the 
person  ask  himself  the  question  :  "  Do  I  in  this  thing 
honestly  seek  to  exalt  ray  Maker,  and  advance  his  cause 
in  the  world  ? "  IE  this  can  be  answered  in  the  affirm- 
ative, it  precludes  both  pride  and  sensuality — the  love  of 
human  applause,  and  the  love  of  worldly  enjoyment — 
which  are  the  two  principal  lusts  that  vitiate  human 
motives.  By  a  pure  motive,  then,  is  meant  one  that  is 
founded  in  the  sole  desire  to  glorify  God  ;  and  of  such  an 
one  we  confidently  affirm  that  it  is  the  light  of  the  soul. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  the  light  of  the  soul,  because 
it  relieves  the  mind  of  doubts  concerning  the  path  of 
duty. 

The  single-eyed  desire  to  please  and  honor  God  is  a  sure 
guide  to  a  Christian,  when  he  is  perplexed  in  regard  to  the 


LiaHT   OF  THE  SOUL.  185 

course  of  action  that  he  ought  to  pursue.  There  are  many 
instances  in  which  it  is  difficult  to  decide  what  is  the  path 
of  duty.  There  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  or 
of  the  case,  that  settles  the  question ;  and,  therefore,  the 
only  mode  in  which  it  can  be  settled  is  to  raise  the  ques- 
tion respecting  the  personal  intention. 

Suppose,  for  illustration,  that  a  Christian  man,  by  that 
course  of  events  which  is  the  leading  of  Providence,  is 
called  to  consider  the  proposition  to  change  his  place  of 
residence,  or  to  engage  in  another  occupation  or  line  of 
business.  There  is  nothing  intrinsically  right  or  wrong 
in  either  of  these  measures.  There  is  no  moral  quality  in 
them;  and  therefore  he  cannot  determine  in  respect  to 
them  from  their  intrinsic  character,  as  he  can  when  the 
proposition  to  lie,  or  to  steal,  or  to  do  an  act  that  is  evil 
in  itself,  is  presented  to  him.  He  must,  therefore,  if  he 
would  carry  his  Christianity  into  his  whole  life,  and  have 
it  penetrate  all  his  plans  and  movements — he  must,  there- 
fore, in  deciding  what  is  duty  in  such  instances  as  these, 
raise  the  question :  How  shall  I  most  exalt  God  in  the 
promotion  of  his  cause  in  the  world  ? 

Suppose,  again,  that  a  young  Christian  is  called  upon  to 
decide  what  his  course  in  life  shall  be ;  whether  he  shall 
devote  it  to  secular  or  sacred  pursuits ;  whether  he  shall  go 
into  the  market-place  and  buy  and  sell  and  get  gain,  or 
whether  he  shall  go  into  the  pulpit  and  preach  the  gospel 
to  sinful  men.  Now,  there  is  nothing  in  the  mere  prose- 
cution of  trade  or  commerce  that  is  intrinsically  right  or 
intrinsically  wrong ;  and  neither  is  there  anything  holy, 
per  se,  in  the  calling  of  a  clergyman.  Everything  depends 
upon  the  motive  with  which  each  is  pursued.  And  the 
question  by  which  this  young  Christian  shall  decide 
whether  he  shall  be  a  layman  or  a  clergyman,  is  the  ques- 
tion :  In  which  calling  can  I  most  glorify  God  ? 


186  PURE  MOTIVES   THE 

These  are  specimens  of  an  unlimited  number  of  cases  in 
which  the  Christian  is  called  to  decide  respecting  the  path 
of  duty,  when  the  cases  themselves  do  not  furnish  the 
clue.  This  whole  wide  field  is  full  of  perplexity,  unless 
we  carry  into  it  that  clear,  crystalline  eye  which  fills  the 
body  full  of  light ;  that  pure  motive  which  is  a  suie  guide 
through  the  tangled  pathway.  The  Romish  casuist  has 
dug  over  this  whole  field,  but  it  has  yielded  him  very  little 
good  fruit,  and  very  much  that  is  evil.  Instead  of  put- 
ting the  conscience  upon  its  good  behavior;  instead  of 
telling  his  pupil  to  settle  all  such  perplexity  by  the  simple, 
evangelical  maxim:  "Whether  therefore  ye  eat,  or  drink, 
or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God  ; "  instead 
of  insisting  first  and  chiefly  upon  the  possession  and  the 
maintenance  of  a  pure  motive  and  a  godly  intention  ;  the 
Romish  casuist  has  attempted  to  discover  an  intrinsic  mo- 
rality in  thousands  of  acts  that  have  none,  and  to  furnish  a 
long  catalogue  of  them  all,  in  which  the  scrupulous  and 
anxious  soul  shall  find  a  rule  ready  made,  and  which  he 
shall  follow  mechanically  and  servilely. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  part  of  this  field  of  human  duty  and 
responsibility,  that  more  needs  the  clear  shining  light 
of  a  pure  motive  and  intention,  than  that  which  includes 
the  intercourse  between  religious  men  and  the  men  of  the 
world.  The  Church  of  Christ  is  planted  in  the  midst  of 
an  earthly  and  an  irreligious  generation.  It  cannot  escape 
this.  St.  Paul  told  the  Christians  of  his  day,  that  they 
could  not  avoid  the  temptations  of  pagan  society  except 
by  going  out  of  the  world  ;  and  it  is  still  as  true  as  ever, 
that  the  Church  must  be  exposed  to  the  lust  of  the  flesh, 
and  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life,  so  long  as  it 
dwells  here  in  space  and  time.  And  this  fact  renders  it 
necessary  for  the  Christian  to  decide  many  difiicult  and 
perplexing  questions  in  morals  and  religion.     They  arose 


LIGHT   OF   THE   SOUL.  187 

in  the  days  of  the  apostles.  Sincere  and  scrupulous  be- 
lievers were  in  doubt  whether  they  should  eat  of  meat 
that  had  constituted  a  part  of  a  sacrificial  victim  offered  in 
an  idol's  temple ;  and  whether  they  should  observe,  or 
should  not  observe,  the  sacred  days  of  the  old  Jewish  dis- 
pensation. These  things  had  in  them  no  intrinsic  moral- 
ity ;  while  yet  the  questions  that  were  involved  in  them 
affected  the  purity  and  whole  future  growth  of  the  Church. 
St.  Paul  laid  down  the  rule  by  which  they  were  to  be 
settled.  "  Meat  commendeth  us  not  to  God  :  for  neither 
if  we  eat  are  we  the  better ;  neither,  if  we  eat  not,  are  we 
the  worse.  But  take  heed  lest  by  any  means  this  liberty 
of  yours  become  a  stumbling-block  to  them  that  are  weak." 
The  Christian  must  beware  lest,  by  insisting  upon  his  own 
personal  rights,  he  hinder  the  progress  of  the  gospel. 
There  was  nothing  good  or  bad,  in  itself  considered,  in 
this  partaking  of  food  that  had  come  into  external  connec- 
tion with  the  abominations  of  idolatry  and  paganism. 
But  if  a  Christian,  by  asserting  and  using  his  unques- 
tionable right  and  liberty  in  a  matter  like  this,  should 
either  directly  or  indirectly  injure  the  cause  of  Christ,  he 
must  forego  his  personal  right  and  yield  his  personal  lib- 
erty. Says  the  noble  and  holy  apostle  Paul :  "  If  my  eat- 
ing of  meat — which  is  both  my  right  and  my  liberty,  so 
far  as  my  own  conscience  is  concerned — if  my  eating  of 
meat  interferes  in  any  way  with  the  spirituality  and  growth 
in  grace  of  any  professing  Christian,  I  will  eat  no  meat 
while  the  world  stands."  He  decides  the  right  and  the 
wrong  in  such  instances,  not  by  the  intrinsic  quality  of  the 
act,  nor  by  his  own  right  and  liberty  as  a  private  person 
to  perform  it,  but  by  the  moral  and  religious  influence 
upon  others,  and  thus,  ultimately,  by  his  own  personal 
motives  in  the  case.  He  desires  and  intends  in  every  ac- 
tion to  glorify  God,  and  promote  his  cause  in  the  world  ; 


188  PURE   MOTIVES   THE 

and  this  pure  intention  guides  him  unerringly  through 
that  field  of  casuistry  which,  without  this  clue,  is  so  per- 
plexing and  bewildering. 

Now,  how  beautifully  does  all  this  apply  to  the  inter- 
course which  the  Church  must  hold  with  the  world,  and 
to  that  class  of  questions  that  arise  out  of  this  intercourse. 
A  Christian  man  must  mingle  more  or  less  in  unchristian 
society.  He  is  brought  in  contact  with  the  manners  and 
customs,  the  usages  and  habits,  the  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments of  a  generation  that  is  worldly,  that  fears  not  God, 
and  is  destitute  of  the  meekness  and  spirituality  of  Christ. 
A  thousand  perplexing  inquiries  respecting  the  path  of 
duty  necessarily  arise  ;  and  they  must  be  answered.  Let 
him  now  look  at  them  with  that  clear,  honest,  open  eye, 
which  is  the  light  of  the  body.  Let  him  decide  upon  the 
course  which  he  shall  pursue,  in  any  given  instance,  by 
the  illumination  of  a  simple,  single  purpose  to  honor  the 
Lord  Christ  and  promote  the  Christian  religion  in  the 
world.  If  this  be  in  him  and  abound,  he  cannot  go 
astray.  To  him  it  may  be  said,  as  the  prophet  Nathan 
said  to  David  :  "  Do  all  that  is  in  thy  heart " — act  as  you 
please — "  for  the  Lord  is  with  thee." 

It  is  easy  to  perceive  that  the  application  of  such  a 
maxim  as  that  of  the  apostle :  "  Whether  therefore  ye  eat, 
or  drink,  or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God," 
would  pour  a  light  upon  any  possible  question  of  duty  that 
could  not  lead  astray.  No  man  will  run  much  hazard  of 
taking  a  wrong  step  in  morals,  or  religion,  whose  eye  is 
single,  and  steadily  directed  toward  the  honor  of  his 
Maker.  It  is  possible,  indeed,  for  him  to  err  in  judg- 
ment, for  he  is  human  and  uninspired,  but  it  is  not  very 
probable.  And  even  if,  owing  to  human  infirmity,  he 
should  be  mistaken  in  a  perplexing  and  difficult  case,  it  will 
be  an  error  of  the  head  and  not  of  the  heart.     If  it  was 


LIGHT   OF  THE   SOUL.  189 

really  his  desire  and  intention  to  please  God  and  promote 
his  cause  in  the  world  ;  if  the  Searcher  of  the  heart  saw 
that  he  meant  well ;  then  the  will  will  be  accepted  for  the 
deed.  "  For  where  there  is  a  willing  mind,  it  is  accepted 
according  to  what  a  man  hath,  and  not  according  to  what 
he  hath  not."  But  errors  of  judgment  will  be  very  rare 
on  the  part  of  one  who  is  actuated  by  a  pure  motive.  He 
will  walk  in  the  light,  and  be  one  of  the  children  of  light. 
"  He  that  loveth  his  brother,"  says  St.  John,  "  abideth  in 
the  light,  and  there  is  none  occasion  of  stumbling  in  him." 
It  is  the  effect  of  a  genuinely  benevolent  and  fraternal  feel- 
ing toward  a  fellow-man,  to  prevent  all  misunderstand- 
ings, or  to  remove  them  if  they  exist.  There  can  be  no 
double-dealing  where  there  is  brotherly  love.  In  like 
manner,  if  the  soul  is  full  of  pure  affection  for  God,  and 
of  a  simple  desire  to  honor  him,  there  can  be  no  occasion 
of  stumbling  in  the  path  of  duty.  Such  a  soul  walks  un- 
der the  broad,  bright  light  of  noon-day. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  a  pure  motive  is  the  light  of 
the  soul,  because  it  relieves  the  mind  of  doubts  concern- 
ing religious  doctrine. 

In  every  age  of  the  world,  there  is  more  or  less  per- 
plexity in  men's  minds  respecting  religious  truth.  Pilate's 
question :  "  "What  is  truth  ?  "  is  asked  by  many  a  soul  in 
every  generation.  Although  Christianity  has  been  a  dom- 
inant religion  in  the  world  for  eighteen  centuries  ;  although 
it  has  left  its  record  and  stamp  upon  all  the  best  civiliza- 
tion and  progress  of  mankind  ;  although  it  has  conducted 
millions  of  souls,  through  the  gloom  and  sorrow  of  earth 
and  time,  to  a  peaceful  death  and  a  hope  full  of  immor- 
tality ;  and  although  there  is  confessedly  nothing  else  to 
take  its  place,  in  case  it  be  an  imposture  and  a  lie ;  yet 
some  men  still  doubt,  and  are  in  perplexity  to  know  if  it 
really  be  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the  life.     This  is 


190  PURE  MOTIVES   THE 

skepticism  in  its  extreme  form.  But  it  may  assume  a 
milder  type.  There  may  be  no  doubt  in  regard  to  the 
truthfulness  of  Christianity  so  far  as  its  principles  agree 
with  those  of  natural  religion,  and  there  may  still  be  a 
strong  doubt  in  regard  to  the  evangelical  doctrines.  A  man 
may  believe  that  there  is  a  God ;  that  right  and  wrong  are 
eternal  contraries ;  that  the  soul  is  immortal ;  that  virtue 
will  be  rewarded,  and  vice  will  be  punished  in  another 
world  ;  and  yet  doubt  whether  there  is  a  triune  God ; 
whether  man  is  apostate  and  totally  depraved  ;  whether 
the  Son  of  God  became  man,  and  died  on  the  cross  to 
make  atonement  for  human  guilt ;  whether  a  man  must  be 
born  again  in  order  to  a  happy  eternity.  Many  are  per- 
plexed with  doubts  upon  these  evangelical  doctrines,  as  they 
are  called,  and  at  times  would  give  much  to  know  if  they 
are  in  very  deed  the  absolute  and  eternal  verities  of  God. 

Now  we  say  that  a  pure  motive,  a  single  sincere  pur- 
pose to  exalt  God,  will  do  much  toward  clearing  away 
these  doubts.  "  If  any  man,"  says  our  Lord,  "  will  do  his 
will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine."  It  is  impossible  in 
a  single  discourse  to  take  up  these  truths  of  revealed  re- 
ligion one  by  one,  and  show  how  a  pure  motive  will  flare 
light  upon  each  and  every  one  of  them,  and  teach  a  man 
what  he  ought  to  believe  and  hold.  We  will,  therefore, 
select  only  one  of  them,  and  make  it  the  crucial  test  by 
which  to  try  them  all. 

There  is  no  doctrine  about  which  the  doubts  and  skep- 
ticism, nay,  the  sincere  perplexity  of  men,  hovers  more 
continually,  than  about  the  doctrine  that  man  is  by  nature 
depraved  and  deserving  of  eternal  punishment.  Prob- 
ably, if  the  world  of  unbelievers  could  be  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  this  particular  tenet,  their  doubt  and  unbelief 
upon  all  the  other  doctrines  would  yield.  This  is  the  cit- 
adel in  the  fortress  of  unbelief. 


LIGHT   OF  THE   SOUL.  191 

'Now  let  a  man  look  at  this  doctrine  of  the  gnilt  and 
corruption  of  man,  as  it  is  stated  in  the  Christian  Scrip- 
tures, and  as  it  is  presupposed  by  the  whole  economy  of 
Redemption,  and  ask  himself  the  question,  whether  he  will 
most  honor  God  by  adopting  it,  or  by  combating  and  re- 
jecting it.  Let  him  remember  that  if  he  denies  the  doc- 
trine of  human  guilt  and  corruption,  he  nullifies  the  whole 
Christian  system,  because  he  who  nullifies  the  sin  of  man 
nullifies  the  redemption  of  the  Son  of  God.  St.  Paul 
told  the  Corinthians,  that  if  there  were  no  resurrection  of 
the  dead,  then  Christ  had  not  risen  ;  and  if  Christ  had  not 
risen,  the  faith  of  every  one  who  had  believed  in  him  was 
vain.  In  like  manner,  if  man  is  not  a  lost  sinner,  then 
there  is  no  Divine  Saviour  and  no  eternal  salvation,  for 
none  is  needed.  There  are  no  superfluities  in  the  universe 
of  God.  Whoever,  therefore,  denies  the  reality  of  a  sin 
in  the  human  race  which  necessitated  the  incarnation  and 
atoning  death  of  the  Son  of  God,  puts  upon  God  that  great 
dishonor  of  disputing  his  veracity  which  is  spoken  of  by 
St.  John  :  "  If  we  say  that  we  have  not  sinned,  we  make 
him  a  liar,  and  his  word  is  not  in  us.  He  that  believeth 
not  God,  hath  made  him  a  liar,  because  he  believeth  not 
the  record  that  God  gave  of  his  Son."  (1  John  i.  10 ;  v. 
10.)  But  the  "  record  "  spoken  of  is  the  doctrine  that  man 
is  a  lost  sinner — so  utterly  lost  that  no  one  but  the  eternal 
Son  of  God  can  save  him  ;  and  even  He  can  do  this  only 
by  pouring  out  his  atoning  life-blood.  Now  can  any  man 
desire  and  purpose  to  glorify  God,  while  disputing  Divine 
Revelation  and  denying  the  apostasy  and  sin  of  mankind, 
respecting  which  God  has  left  such  a  clear  record  in  his 
Word,  and  which  constitutes  the  only  rational  ground  for 
the  death  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ? 

No,  it  is  the  confession  and  not  the  denial  of  human  de- 
pravity that  glorifies  God.    Two   men  went  up  into  the 


192  PURE   MOTIVES  THE 

temple  to  pray,  one  of  whom  acknowledged  the  guilt  and 
corruption  of  man,  and  the  other  denied  it ;  and  we  are 
informed  by  the  highest  authority  that  the  prayer  of  the 
former  was  well-pleasing  to  the  Most  High,  and  that  of 
the  latter  was  an  abomination  to  Him.  The  men  who 
glorify  God  are  possessed  of  the  publican's  spirit.  They 
do  not  adopt  the  pharisee's  theory  of  human  nature. 
They  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  And  the 
declaration  concerning  them  from  the  lips  of  the  Eternal 
is :  "  To  this  man  will  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor, 
and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  trembleth  at  my  word."  (Is. 
Ixvi.  2.) 

In  settling  the  question,  therefore,  respecting  the  unwel- 
come doctrine  of  human  depravity  and  its  endless  punish- 
ment, a  pure  motive  will  pour  a  flood  of  light.  If  this  one 
thing  alone  could  but  be  introduced  into  the  heart  of  the 
doubter  himself,  we  have  small  fear  that  the  most  humbling, 
and  in  some  respects  the  most  difficult,  truth  in  the  Chris- 
tian system,  would  be  accepted.  If  the  mind  of  the  skeptic, 
or  of  the  groping  and  really  perplexed  inquirer,  could  but 
be  filled  with  an  absorbing  concern  for  the  Divine  honor ; 
if  every  such  one  could  but  be  brought  to  sympathize  with 
St.  Paul  when  he  cried :  "  Let  God  be  true,  and  every 
man  a  liar ; "  we  would  leave  it  with  him  to  say  which  is 
the  absolute  and  indisputable  truth — the  doctrine  of  human 
virtue,  or  the  doctrine  of  human  sin. 

Employ,  then,  this  test  and  criterion  of  religious  doc- 
trine. Ask  yourself  the  question,  in  reference  to  any 
and  every  tenet  that  challenges  your  attention,  or  solicits 
your  credence,  "  Does  its  adoption  glorify  God  ?  "  The 
arguments  for  the  Christian  system — and  by  the  Chris- 
tian system  we  mean  evangelical  Christianity — are  strong, 
and  grow  stronger  as  the  ages  wear  away.  But  there  is 
one  argument  too  often  overlooked,  or  underestimated. 


LIGHT   OF   THE   SOUL.  193 

It  is  the  fact  that  this  system  exalts  God,  and  properly 
abases  man.  We  find  an  evidence  of  its  divinity  in  this 
very  thing.  All  the  natm-al  religions,  all  the  wild  re- 
ligions of  the  globe,  reverse  this.  They  exalt  the  creatm*e, 
and  abase,  yea  debase,  the  Creator.  Like  the  old  Ptole- 
maic astronomy,  like  their  own  absurd  theories  of  the  ma- 
terial world,  they  place  the  little  world  of  man  at  the 
centre  of  the  boundless  universe.  Christianity,  like  the 
Copernican  system,  restores  everything  to  its  right  rela- 
tions, and  arranges  everything  about  its  real  and  true 
centre.  God  is  first,  last,  and  midst.  Of  him,  through 
him,  and  to  him,  are  all  things.  The  first  question,  there- 
fore, to  be  asked  concerning  every  doctrine,  and  every 
system,  is  the  question :  "  Does  it  promote  the  Divine 
glory  ? "  The  great  and  first  maxim  for  human  action, 
and  human  speculation,  is  the  maxim :  "  Whether,  there- 
fore, ye  eat,  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the 
glory  of  God." 

This  then  is  the  eye  with  which  we  are  to  pierce  through 
all  the  doubts  and  darkness  of  earth  and  time.  This  pure, 
motive  is  the  light  of  the  soul.  How  simple,  and  how 
beautiful  it  is — simple  as  the  light  of  heaven ;  beautifui 
as  the  crystalline  eye  itself.  Only  carry  with  you  this  de- 
sire and  longing  to  exalt  the  great  and  wise  Creator,  and 
you  cannot  go  astray.  You  cannot  go  astray  in  the  actions 
of  your  daily  life.  You  cannot  go  astray  in,  the  thoughts 
and  opinions  of  your  own  mind.  The  very  motive  will  en- 
velop you,  always  and  everywhere,  like  an  atmospliere. 
Your  whole  soul  "  shall  be  full  of  light,  having  no  part 
dark  ;  as  full  of  light  as  when  the  bright  shining  of  a 
candle  doth  give  thee  light." 
9 


SEEMON  XIII. 

THE  LAW   IS  LIGHT. 
Proverbs  vi.  23.—"  The  law  is  light." 


The  fitness  and  beanty  of  this  comparison  of  the  law  of 
God  with  light  are  seen  immediately.  If  we  consider  the 
nature  of  law,  we  find  that  it  is  like  the  nature  of  sun- 
light. There  is  nothing  so  pure  and  clean  as  light,  and 
there  is  nothing  so  pure  and  stainless  as  the  divine  law. 
We  cannot  conceive  of  a  mixture  of  light  and  darkness, 
and  neither  can  we  conceive  of  a  mixture  of  holiness  and 
sin.  The  one  may  expel  the  other,  but  they  can  never  so 
mingle  with  each  other  as  to  form  one  compound  substance, 
or  quality.  Light  is  always  a  bright  and  shining  element ; 
the  law  of  God  is  always  a  perfectly  pure  thing. 

Again,  there  is  nothing  so  ubiquitous  as  the  light.  It 
is  everywhere.  Our  earth  and  all  the  heavenly  bodies 
swim  in  it.  Its  universal  presence  is  necessary,  in  order 
that  there  may  be  order  and  beauty  in  the  material  uni- 
verse. When  God  would  change  the  void  and  formlesa 
chaos  into  a  world,  he  first  created,  not  life,  as  we  should 
have  anticipated,  but  light,  and  shot  it  through  the  gloom. 
How  penetrating  an  element  it  is,  and  how  wonderfully 
does  it  search  out  all  the  secret  places  in  nature,  and  take 
up  its  dwelling  in  them.  It  enters  with  a  gentle  yet  a 
powerful  entrance  into  the  hard  diamond,  and  gives  it  its 


THE   LAW   IS   LIGHT.  195 

gleam  and  sparkle.  It  tenderly  feels  its  way  into  the  del- 
icate pupil  of  the  human  eye,  and  lights  it  up  with  a  bright 
and  radiant  glow.  It  melts  with  a  serene  and  mellowing 
effect  into  the  firmament  above  us,  and  makes  it  a  fit  can- 
opy and  pavilion  for  the  globe.  Its  going  forth  is  from 
the  end  of  the  heaven,  and  its  circuit  unto  the  end  of  it, 
and  there  is  nothing  hid  from  the  radiance  thereof. 

How  very  like  this  light  in  the  material  universe  is  the 
law  of  God  in  the  rational.  How  naturally  does  the  one 
suggest  and  symbolize  the  other.  Hence  the  Psalmist, 
after  alluding  to  the  sun,  the  great  bearer  of  light,  and  to 
his  running  like  a  strong  giant  through  the  heavens,  ab- 
ruptly, yet  by  a  very  natural  transition,  begins  to  speak  of 
"  the  law  of  the  Lord  "  as  perfect ;  of  the  "  statutes  of  the 
Lord"  as  right;  of  the  "commandment  of  the  Lord"  as 
pure ;  of  "  the  judgments  of  the  Lord"  as  true  and  right- 
eous altogether. 

Again,  to  follow  the  resemblance,  the  moral  law  is  the 
ordinance  which  establishes  and  governs  the  moral  uni- 
verse. The  command,  "  Let  there  be  light,"  founded  and 
sustains  the  material  world ;  and  the  command,  "  Let  there 
be  supreme  love  of  God,"  founds  and  sustains  the  rational 
and  responsible  world.  And  as  the  proclamation  of  the 
physical  law  was  requisite  in  order  to  the  existence  of  the 
physical  world,  so  was  the  proclamation  of  the  spiritual 
law  requisite  in  order  to  the  existence  of  the  spiritual 
world.  Both  commands  are  universal  and  all-pervading. 
The  law  of  God,  therefore,  like  the  light,  is  ubiquitous. 
Within  the  rational  and  responsible  sphere,  law  is  every- 
where. Not,  indeed,  in  the  same  degree,  but  in  the  same 
species.  For  there  are  different  degrees  of  moral  light,  as 
there  are  different  degrees  of  natural  light.  As  there  is 
the  twilight  of  the  morning,  and  the  brightness  of  the 
noonday,  and  the  many  degrees  of  light  between  these 


196  THE  LAW   IS   LIGHT. 

all  running  into  each  other  by  insensible  gradations,  so 
there  is  the  dim  light  of  finite  reason  in  the  imbruted  pa- 
gan, and  the  light  of  supreme  reason  in  the  infinite  God 
shining  in  its  strength  and  intolerable  brightness,  and 
the  infinite  number  of  degrees  between  these  extremes. 
Everywhere  in  this  rational  world  does  this  legal  light,  in 
a  fainter  or  a  brighter  manner,  shine  ;  for  a  being  without 
a  spark  of  moral  intelligence,  without  a  particle  of  con- 
science, is  a  brute.  Everywhere  in  this  responsible  world, 
does  this  law,  with  greater  or  less  power,  manifest  its 
presence.  It  may  be  a  law  written  only  upon  the  fieehy 
tablet  of  the  heart,  as  in  the  instance  of  the  heathen.  It 
may  be  written  on  the  heart,  and  in  the  revealed  word  of 
God,  as  the  dweller  in  a  Christian  land  has  it.  It  may  be 
written  on  the  heart,  and  read  again  in  the  countenance  of 
that  God  who  "  is  light,  and  in  whom  is  no  darkness  at 
all,"  as  spirits  in  eternity  have  it.  But  everywhere  its 
presence  in  some  degree  is  presupposed  in  a  responsible 
world — "  for  where  no  Idw  is,  there  is  no  transgression." 
Its  presence,  moreover,  is  a  penetrating  one,  like  that  of 
light.  It  pierces  where  we  should  not  expect  to  find  it. 
It  is  witnessed  in  the  remorse  v^hich  it  awakens  when  it 
has  pierced  through  the  thick  and  dark  degradation  of  pa- 
ganism. It  is  seen  in  the  blood  of  the  victims  by  which 
the  pagan  attempts  to  expiate  the  guilt  of  having  violated 
law,  and  resisted  light.  It  is  revealed  in  the  uneasy  con- 
sciences of  men  living  in  a  Christian  land,  which  can  be 
pacified  only  by  the  blood  of  Him  who  was  "  made  a  curse 
for  man."  It  is  found  in  hell,  and  creatures  dread  it  and 
feel  its  terrible  power,  because  it  is  light  divorced  from 
life ;  mere  law  without  love.  It  is  found  in  heaven,  and 
the  saints  enjoy  it,  because  for  them  it  is  light,  and  life, 
and  love,  all  in  one.  Wherever  the  omnipresent  God  is, 
there  is  his  law.     Wherever  there  is  a  creature  possessing 


THE   LAW   IS   LIGHT.  197 

the  sense  of  responsibility  to  God,  there  is  also  a  knowl- 
edge, in  greater  or  less  degree,  of  that  commandment  by 
which  its  conduct  toward  him  should  be  regulated.  Issu- 
ing from  God,  then,  moral  law  flows  out  into  all  places  of 
his  dominion,  as  light  radiates  from  the  sun,  and  consti- 
tutes a  clear,  crystal  element  in  which  all  accountable  be- 
ings live,  either  as  light  or  lightning ;  either  as  the  light 
that  rejoices  them  if  they  obey,  or  the  lightning  that  blasts 
them  if  they  disobey — even  as  the  natural  light  is  the 
dwelling-place  of  all  material  things ;  though  sometimes  it 
is  the  benign  light  of  an  autumnal  noon,  or  the  soft  light 
of  a  summer  evening,  and  sometimes  it  is  that  chemical 
incandescence  which,  in  the  old  geological  eras,  burned  up 
the  primeval  forests,  of  which  the  coal-beds  are  the  cin- 
ders. How  truly,  then,  "  the  law  is  light,"  if  we  consider 
the  purity  of  its  nature,  or  the  universality  and  penetration 
of  its  presence. 

But  our  main  object  is  to  show  the  similarity  between 
the  moral  law  and  the  material  light,  by  looking  at  its 
influences  and  effects  in  the  soul,  rather  than  by  analyz- 
ing its  intrinsic  nature.  And  the  subject  naturally  divides 
into  two  parts,  when  we  remember  that  there  are  two 
classes  of  beings,  the  evil  and  the  good,  who  sustain  rela- 
tions to  this  law. 

We  shall,  in  this  discourse,  direct  attention  to  some 
effects  produced  by  the  Divine  law  in  the  Christian  be- 
liever, that  are  like  the  effects  of  light  in  the  world  of 
nature. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  moral  law  reveals  like  sunlight. 
It  makes  the  sin  which  still  remains  in  the  Christian  a 
visible  thing.  The  apostle  Paul  notices  this  point  of  sim- 
ilarity, when  he  remarks :  "  All  things  that  are  reproved 
are  made  manifest  by  the  light,  for  whatsoever  doth  make 
manifest  is  light."    And  our  Lord  implies  the  same  resem- 


198  THE  LAW   IS  LIGHT. 

blance,  when  lie  says :  "  This  is  the  condemnation,  that 
light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  loved  darkness  rather 
than  light,  because  their  deeds  were  evil.  For  every  one 
that  doeth  evil  hateth  the  light,  neither  cometh  to  the 
light,  lest  his  deeds  should  be  reproved.  But  he  that 
doeth  truth  cometh  to  the  light,  that  his  deeds  may  be 
made  manifest  that  they  are  wrought  in  God." 

Believers  are  continually  urged  in  the  Scriptures  to 
bring  their  hearts  into  the  light  of  God's  law,  that  they 
may  see  the  sin  that  is  in  them.  It  is  as  necessary,  in 
order  to  know  our  characters,  that  we  should  scrutinize 
them  by  this  illumination,  as  it  is  that  the  naturalist  should 
bring  the  plant,  or  the  insect,  whose  structure  he  would 
comprehend,  into  the  bright  daylight.  And  if  we  would 
thoroughly  understand  our  intricate  and  hidden  corrup- 
tion, we  must  by  prayer  and  reflection  intensify  the  light 
of  the  moral  law,  that  it  may  penetrate  more  deeply  into 
the  dark  mass,  even  as  the  naturalist  must  concentrate  the 
light  of  the  sun  through  the  lens,  if  he  would  thoroughly 
know  the  plant  or  the  insect. 

How  wonderfully  does  the  holy  searching  law  of  God 
reveal  our  character !  In  the  silent  hour  of  meditation, 
■when  we  are  alone  with  it,  and  carefully  compare  our  con- 
duct with  its  requirements,  how  unworthy  and  guilty  do 
we  find  and  feel  ourselves  to  be,  and  how  earnestly  do  we 
look  unto  Him  "  who  is  the  end  of  the  law  for  righteous- 
ness, unto  every  one  that  believeth."  Truly  the  law  is 
"  the  candle  of  the  Lord,  searching  all  the  inward  parts." 
It  discloses,  when  its  light  is  thus  brightened  by  medita- 
tion, much  sin  which  in  the  carelessness  of  daily  life  es- 
capes our  notice.  The  light,  in  the  hour  of  self-examina- 
tion, goes  down  to  a  lower  plane,  and  reveals  a  lower  and 
more  hidden  sin.  It  makes  its  way  in  among  the  motives, 
the  propensities,  the  desires  and  affections  of  the  heart, 


THE   LAW  IS   LIGHT.  199 

and  brings  into  clear  view  the  plague-spot  itself — the  evil 
nature  and  disposition.  Sin  is  a  sallow  plant  of  darkness, 
and  grows  best  in  the  night,  like  the  nightshade  and  other 
poisonous  plants.  Hence  it  avoids  the  light,  and  will  not 
come  to  the  light,  lest  it  be  reproved.  But  when  we  reso- 
lutely throw  open  the  soul,  and  permit  the  light  of  God's 
truth  to  shine  in,  then  we  come  to  know  the  deadly  growth 
which  has  been  springing  up  rankly  and  luxuriantly  within 
us — a  growth  of  which  we  had  not  been  distinctly  awai'e, 
and  which  is  difficult  to  root  up.  Every  Christian  who  is 
at  all  faithful  to  himself,  and  to  God,  has  experienced 
these  illuminating  and  revelatory  influences  of  the  law. 
It  has  frequently  dazzled  him  by  its  pure  white  light,  and 
he  has  felt  himself  to  be  exceedingly  depraved.  He  has 
been  astonished  at  his  corruption,  as  the  dying  saint  was 
when  he  sighed  :  "  Infinite  upon  infinite  is  the  wickedness 
of  the  heart."  With  the  Psalmist,  he  has  cried  out  to 
God  :  "  The  entrance  of  thy  words  giveth  light ;  I  have 
seen  an  end  of  all  perfection,  thy  commandment  is  exceed- 
ing broad." 

We  cannot  leave  this  head  of  the  discourse  without  di- 
recting particular  attention  to  the  fact,  that  for  the  believer 
the  law  makes  these  disclosures  of  character  in  a  hopeful 
and  salutary  manner.  In  their  own  nature  they  are  terri- 
ble. The  unbeliever  cannot  endure  them,  and  hence  he 
avoids  them  as  the  criminal  avoids  the  officer  of  justice. 
But  the  believer,  by  virtue  of  his  union  with  Christ,  and 
appropriation  of  his  vicarious  atonement,  has  been  deliv- 
ered from  the  condemning  power  of  the  law.  The  "  curse  " 
of  the  law,  Christ  his  Surety  has  borne  for  him.  The  de- 
mands of  justice  have  been  completely  satisfied  by  the  Son 
of  God,  his  High  Priest.  This  fact  places  him  in  a  new 
and  secure  position  in  respect  to  the  Divine  law  and  gov- 
ernment.    His  legal  status,  or  standing,  is  safe.     There  is 


200  THE  LAW  IS   LIGHT. 

no  condemnation  to  liiin  as  in  Christ  Jesus.  Hence,  when- 
ever he  searches  his  lieart,  and  compares  his  character  and 
conduct  with  the  requirements  of  the  Divine  law,  and  finds 
that  he  has  incurred  its  condemnation,  he  does  not  fall  into 
servile  terror  and  despair,  like  the  impenitent  unbeliever. 
By  reason  of  his  faith  in  Christ's  oblation,  he  is  prepared 
for  these  revelations.  From  his  high  evangelic  position,  he 
cries  out :  "  Let  the  disclosure  of  character  come  :  let  me 
know  the  full  depth  and  extent  of  my  guilt  and  corruption. 
Christ  is  my  atonement,  and  his  blood  cancels  everything. 
Let  the  righteous  law  smite  me ;  it  shall  be  a  kindness,  in 
that  it  leads  me  to  my  Redeemer."  Hence  this  light  of  the 
Divine  law  is  of  a  cleansing  and  illuminating,  and  not  of  a 
burning  and  blasting  nature  for  the  believer.  He  makes  use 
of  the  law  only  for  preceptive  purposes,  in  order  to  know 
his  moral  state  and  condition.  And  he  has  no  further  use 
for  it.  He  does  not  expect,  or  look,  to  be  justified  by  it. 
When  it  demands  penalty  for  the  sins  that  are  past,  as  it 
righteously  does,  and  he  most  cordially  concedes  the  right- 
eousness of  the  claim,  he  points  it  to  the  satisfying  death 
of  Christ.  And  when  it  demands  a  perfect  performance 
of  its  commands,  as  it  justly  does,  he  looks  to  Christ  for 
grace,  inclination,  and  power,  to  render  such  an  obedience. 
In  this  way,  the  believer  stands  upon  a  high  vantage-ground 
in  reference  to  law.  He  enjoys  all  the  beneficent  and  edu- 
cating influences  of  the  law,  without  any  of  those  dreadful 
judicial  and  retributive  impressions  which  are  experienced 
by  the  legalist,  the  moralist,  the  unbeliever,  upon  whom 
the  entire  law,  both  as  precept  and  penalty,  weighs  down 
as  an  intolerable  burden,  because  he  has  not  cast  himself 
and  his  burden  upon  Christ.  For  the  legalist  has  appealed 
to  Caesar,  and  to  Csesar  he  must  go  ;  the  unbelieving,  un- 
evangelic  man  has  referred  his  ease  to  justice,  and  to  jus- 
tice it  must  go. 


THE  LAW   IS   LIGHT.  201 

Tims  is  the  moral  law  like  the  material  light,  in  reveal- 
ing, in  bringing  to  liglit.  And  for  the  believer  it  is  a  mild 
and  radiant  light  which  he  does  not  fear,  and  which  his 
soul  loves  more  and  more.  Like  the  cup  of  a  flower,  his 
heart  opens  itself  to  the  pure  ether  and  element,  and 
drinks  it  in  with  eagerness  and  joy.  And  as  the  flower 
by  thus  turning  towards  the  light  becomes  like  the  light 
itself  in  some  degree,  and  acquires  an  airy  and  almost  im- 
material texture  in  the  process,  so  does  the  Christian's 
heart  come  to  be  a  pure  and  holy  thing  like  the  law.  The 
law  is  in  his  heart,  and  appears  more  and  more  in  his  ac- 
tions, until  at  length,  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come, 
his  whole  nature  and  entire  being  is  transmuted  into  a 
living  spontaneous  law  of  righteousness. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  the  law,  for  the  believer  in 
Christ,  attracts  like  the  light.  Light  in  the  material  world 
universally  attracts.  If  the  smallest  pencil  of  light,  through 
the  smallest  possible  aperture,  fall  upon  the  plant  in  a  dark 
place,  it  immediately  shoots  towards  it.  And  when  the 
sun  rises  up  and  bathes  the  world  in  light,  how  all  nature 
rises  up  to  meet  it.  The  very  leaves  of  the  trees  look  up, 
and  the  flowers  spread  out  with  a  richer  bloom,  to  welcome 
its  coming.  A  more  vigorous  and  spirited  life  circulates 
throughout  nature,  and  the  whole  landscape  seems  as  if  it 
were  ascending  like  incense  to  the  God  of  light.  Just  so 
does  the  moral  law  attract  the  world  of  holy  beings.  They 
love  the  law  for  jts  intrinsic  excellence,  and  seek  it  with 
the  whole  heart.  They  cannot  live  without  it,  and  would 
not  live  without  it  if  they  could.  They  see  in  it  a  tran- 
script of  the  character  of  God  whom  they  adore,  and 
therefore  they  gaze  at  it,  and  study  it.  "  O  how  I  love 
thy  law,  it  is  my  meditation  all  the  day,"  is  the  utterance 
of  their  hearts.  And  yet  more  than  this.  Their  very 
natures  are  pure  like  the  law ;  and  like  always  attracts  like. 


202  THE   LAW   IS   LIGHT. 

If  there  be  in  any  soul  even  the  least  degree  of  real  holi- 
ness, there  is  a  point  of  attraction  upon  which  the  law  of 
God  will  seize  and  draw.  Holiness  is  never  an  isolated 
thing  in  any  creature.  It  came  from  God,  and  it  goes 
back  to  God,  and  returns  again  increased  and  strengthened. 
Hence  there  is  a  continual  tendency  and  drift  of  a  holy 
soul  towards  the  holy  Ofie.  As  the  power  of  gravitation 
draws  with  a  steady  stress  all  things  to  the  centre,  so  do 
truth  and  righteousness,  inhering  in  the  Divine  nature, 
like  a  vast  central  force  attract  all  pm*e  and  holy  creatures 
towards  their  seat.  Have  you  not,  in  the  more  favored 
hours  of  your  religious  life,  experienced  what  the  Scrip- 
ture denominates  the  "  drawing  " — the  attraction — "  of  the 
Father,"  when  by  the  illumination  of  his  Spirit  he  dis- 
closed to  you  the  excellence  of  his  statutes  and  command- 
ments, and  you  panted  after  conformity  with  them  as  the 
hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks  ?  Did  not  the  beauty 
of  holiness  attract  your  ardent  gaze,  and  prompt  the  prayer 
that  it  might  be  realized  and  seen  in  your  own  personal 
character?  As  angelic  purity  dawned  more  and  clearer 
upon  your  vision,  and  you  saw  how  desirable  and  blessed 
it  is  to  be  spotless  and  saintly,  how  glorious  the  law  that 
disciplines,  and  regulates,  and  purifies,  appeared  to  you. 
You  wished  that  your  soul  might  cast  off  its  old  garments 
of  sin  and  earth,  and  might  go  up  and  bathe  forever  in  the 
pure,  limpid  waters  of  heaven — that  your  heart  might  be- 
come a  perfectly  clean  heart,  ever  gently  yet  powerfully 
drawn  by  the  commandment  toward  the  Sovereign.  You 
said  with  the  Psalmist :  "  Thy  word  is  very  pure,  there- 
fore thy  servant  loveth  it.  The  law  of  the  Lord  is  per- 
fect ;  more  to  be  desired  is  it  than  gold,  yea  than  much  fine 
gold :    sweeter  also  than  honey  and  the  honey-comb," 

This  view  of  the  Divine  law  as  an  attractive  energy  is 
an  encouraging  one   to   the   believer.      It   affords  good 


THE   LAW   IS   LIGHT.  203 

grounds  for  the  perseverance  of  the  saints.  For  this  oper- 
ation of  the  law  of  God  in  a  renewed  heart  is  ceaseless  and 
constantly  augmenting.  As  well  might  we  suppose  the 
power  of  attraction  in  the  material  world  to  be  an  inter- 
mittent one,  and  subject  to  interruption  and  cessation,  as 
to  suppose  it  in  the  spiritual.  The  great  force  of  gravita- 
tion never  becomes  tired  and  weary  in  the  planets  and 
molecules  of  matter  ;  and  neither  do  the  truth  and  Spirit  of 
God  within  the  believer's  soul.  As  the  Christian  is  drawn 
nearer  to  God,  the  influence  of  the  Divine  law  is  greater 
and  greater.  It  obtains  a  more  complete  mastery  over  his 
appetites  and  passions  ;  it  dwells  with  a  more  constant  res- 
idence in  his  affections ;  it  actuates  his  conduct  with  a  more 
delightful  and  easy  power.  What  a  cheering  view  of  the 
future  career  of  a  redeemed  spirit  does  this  way  of  con- 
templating the  moral  law  present.  Forever  increasing  in 
its  influence,  as  it  is  forever  drawing  the  creature  nearer 
its  Father  and  God.  The  goal  is  an  infinitely  distant  one, 
and  yet  as  he  is  passing  along  this  limitless  line  he  feels 
an  allurement  at  each  and  every  one  of  the  innumerable 
points,  as  powerful  and  as  entirely  master  of  his  soul  as 
if  he  were  at  the  end  of  the  infinite  career. 

III.  In  the  third  place,  the  law,  for  the  believer  in 
Christ,  invigorates  like  light.  This  point  of  resemblance 
between  the  moral  law  and  the  light  of  the  sun  is  plain, 
though  somewhat  less  obvious  at  the  first  glance.  For  al- 
though we  more  commonly  think  of  the  air  as  the  invig- 
orating element  in  nature,  yet  it  is  true  of  the  light,  that 
its  presence  is  necessar}'^  in  order  that  the  spirits  of  a  man 
may  be  lively  and  in  vigorous  action.  That  plant  which 
grows  up  in  the  darkness  is  a  pale  and  weak  thing.  The 
season  of  repose  and  inactivity  is  the  night  time.  In  the 
hours  of  darkness,  the  living  powers  of  the  body  go  to 
rest,  and  their  instruments,  the  limbs,  are  as  still  and  mo- 


204  THE  IjA^v  is  light. 

tionless  as  wlien  death  itself  has  set  its  seal  upon  them. 
But  when  the  world  again  "  covers  itself  with  light  as 
with  a  garment,"  man  feels  its  awakening  and  stimulating 
power.  The  living  currents  of  his  frame  circulate  more 
quickly,  spring  and  buoyancy  are  imparted,  and  he  "  goeth 
forth  unto  his  work  and  to  his  labor  until  the  evening." 
And  not  only  does  man  feel  the  invigoration  of  light,  but 
nature  does  also.  Mere  air  is  not  all  that  is  necessary  in 
order  to  growth ;  the  clear  shining  effulgence  of  heaven 
must  be  poured  abroad,  that  there  may  be  freshness  and 
bloom  in  the  natural  woi-ld. 

Similar  to  this  is  the  effect  of  the  moral  law  upon  one 
who  is  resting  upon  Christ,  both  in  respect  to  the  law's 
condemnation  and  the  law's  fulfilment.  For  we  cannot 
but  again  remind  you,  that  the  believer  sustains  a  totally 
different  relation  to  the  Divine  law  froin  that  which  the 
unbeliever  sustains,  and  it  casts  a  very  different  light  upon 
him  from  that  which  it  darts  and  flashes  into  the  impeni- 
tent soul.  The  steady,  cheerful  light  of  a  summer's  day  is 
very  different  from  the  wrathful,  fitful  lightning  of  the 
black  thunder-cloud.  The  power  of  law  to  condemn,  to 
terrify,  and  to  slay,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  is  de- 
parted, because  Christ  has  received  the  stroke  of  justice 
upon  himself.  For  the  disciple  of  Christ,  the  law  is  no 
longer  a  judge,  but  only  an  instructor.  The  terrors  of  the 
law  have  lost  their  power,  and  he  is  relieved  from  that 
weakening,  benumbing  fear  of  judgment  which  utterly 
prevents  a  cheerful  obedience.  Fear  hath  torment ;  and 
no  creature  can  love  and  serve  God  while  he  is  in  torment. 
The  disciple  of  Christ  is  a  free  and  vigorous  man  spirit- 
ually^, because  his  Redeemer  has  released  him  from  the 
bondage  and  anxiety  which  the  law,  as  a  condemning 
judge,  and  an  inexorable,  unhelping  exactor,  causes  in 
every  unbeliever.     Take  away  fear,  and  take  away  bond- 


THE   LAW   IS   LIGHT.  205 

age,  and  you  impart  energy  and  courage  at  once.  As  soon 
as  a  criminal  is  released  from  the  sentence  of  death,  and 
his  chains  are  knocked  off,  his  old  vigor  and  life  return 
again ;  his  frame  dilates  once  more,  his  eye  kindles,  and 
his  heart  swells  and  beats  again,  because  he  is  no  longer 
under  sentence  of  death,  and  no  longer  a  bond  slave. 

Not  only  does  the  law  impart  spiritual  vigor  to  the  be- 
liever because  it  has  ceased  to  be  his  condemning  judge, 
and  has  become  a  wise  and  good  schoolmaster  to  lead  him 
to  Christ,  but  it  invigorates  him  because  by  virtue  of  his 
union  with  Christ  it  has  become  an  inward  and  actuating 
principle.  It  is  no  longer  a  mere  external  statute,  with 
which  he  has  no  sympathy,  and  which  merely  terrifies 
him  with  its  threat.  His  heart  has  been  so  changed  by 
grace  that  he  now  really  loves  the  law  of  God.  The  apos- 
tle Paul,  speaking  of  the  sinner  and  of  the  sinner's  rela- 
tion to  the  law,  affirms  that  for  such  an  one  "  the  law  is 
the  strength  of  sin."  In  case  the  heart  is  at  enmity  with 
God's  commandment,  the  commandment  merely  provokes, 
elicits,  and  stinmlates  the  inward  depravity,  but  does 
nothing  towards  removing  it.  The  commandment  which 
was  ordained  to  life — which,  in  a  right  state  of  things,  was 
adapted  to  fill  the  human  soul  with  peace  and  joy — is 
found  to  be  unto  death,  and  actually  fills  it  with  despair 
and  woe.  But  for  the  believer,  this  very  same  law  is  the 
strength  of  holiness.  The  Psalmist  remarks  of  the  right- 
eous man :  "  The  law  of  God  is  in  his  heart ;  none  of 
his  steps  shall  slide."  When  the  human  soul  is  regener- 
ated, the  Divine  law  is  written  not  merely  on  but  in  the 
tablet  of  the  heart.  It  becomes  a  feeling,  an  affection, 
an  inclination,  a  disposition  within  it.  Have  you  ever 
seen  a  Christian  in  whose  active  and  emotional  powers 
the  law  of  God  had  come  to  be  a  second  nature  ?  Have 
you  ever  seen  one  whose  actions  were  easily  and  sweetly 


206  THE  LAW  IS   LIGHT. 

controlled  by  the  Divine  commandment,  and  whose  cen- 
tral and  inmost  experiences  were  but  expressions  and  man- 
ifestations of  it  ?  And  was  not  that  Christian  a  strong 
and  vigorous  one  ?  Did  he  not  run  the  race,  and  fight  the 
fight,  with  a  firm  and  determined  bearing  ;  calm  in  adver- 
sity, equable  and  serenely  joyful  in  prosperity  ;  wending 
his  way  faithful  and  fearless  into  eternity  ?  Never  is  the 
spirit  of  a  man  in  such  a  vigorous  condition,  and  its  ener- 
gies in  such  a  healthful  and  active  play,  as  when  it  is  im- 
pelled and  actuated  by  law ;  and  who  but  the  renewed 
man  is  thus  actuated  ?  Never  is  man  such  a  free  and  spir- 
ited creature,  as  when  he  spontaneously  listens  to  the  voice 
of  truth  and  duty.  As  the  apostle  says:  He  is  "filled 
with  the  spirit  of  jyowerP  The  poet  Wordsworth,'  per- 
sonifying the  law  of  order  which  prevails  in  the  natural 
world,  and  which  prevails  inwardly  as  all  the  laws  of  na- 
ture do,  addresses  it  thus : 

Flowers  laugh  before  thee  on  their  beds ; 

And  fragrance  in  thy  footing  treads ; 

Thou  dost  preserve  the  stars  from  wrong  ; 

And  the  most  ancient  heavens  through  thee  are  fresh  and  strong. 

So  is  it,  in  a  far  higher  sense,  with  the  law  of  God  in 
the  spiritual  world.  Wherever  it  prevails  inwardly  as  a 
principle,  and  not  outwardly  as  a  threat,  there  is  order, 
vigor,  beauty,  and  strength.  Creatures  who  listen  to  it  in 
this  spontaneous  style  are  strong  in  the  highest  of  strength 
— in  the  strength  of  holiness,  in  the  "  confidence  of  rea- 
son "  and  righteousness. 

lY.  In  the  fourth  place,  the  law,  for  the  believer  in 
Christ,  rejoices  like  the  light.  This  feature  of  resemblance 
is  evident  at  the  ver}'^  first  glance.  "  Truly  the  light  is 
sweet,  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the 

» Ode  to  Duty. 


THE   LAW   IS   LIGHT.  207 

sun."  In  nature,  the  hour  of  joy  is  the  morning  hour. 
All  creatures  and  things  are  filled  with  gladness  at  the  up- 
rising of  the  light.'  It  is  related  in  ancient  story  that  the 
statue  of  Memnon,  when  the  first  rays  of  the  morning 
gilded  it,  began  to  tremble,  and  thrill — the  hard  por- 
phyritic  rock  began  to  tremble,  and  thrill,  and  send  forth 
music  like  a  swept  harp.  Thus  does  nature  thrill  under 
the  first  touch  of  light,  and  warble  forth  its  harmonies. 
And  such,  too,  is  the  joy-giving  influence  of  righteous  law 
in  the  heavenly  world,  and  such  is  its  effect  in  the  indi- 
vidual believer.  What  rapture  the  contemplation  of  the 
Divine  commands  imparted  to  the  heart  of  the  royal 
harper.  How  his  soul  accompanied  his  harp,  in  singing 
with  jubilance  the  praises  of  its  Author.  Hear  him: 
"  Thy  testimonies  have  I  taken  as  an  heritage  forever ; 
for  they  are  the  rejoicing  of  my  heart.  I  rejoice  at  thy 
word  as  one  that  findeth  great  spoil."  Joy  in  the  law  of 
the  Lord — positive,  blood-felt  delight  in  having  it  rule 
over  and  in  the  soul — is  the  sure  sign  of  a  right  state. 
Miserable  is  that  creature  of  God  for  whom  obedience  to 
law  is  a  task  and  a  disgust.  There  are  no  hirelings  in 
heaven.  Service  there  is  its  own  reward.  The  law  of 
God  is  to  be  our  companion  forever,  either  as  a  joy  or  a 
sorrow,  either  as  bliss  or  bale  ;  and  we  must,  therefore, 
come  into  such  an  inward  and  affectionate  relation  to  it,  as 
to  make  it  bliss  and  not  woe.  We  must  rejoice  in  its  holy 
presence,  when  with  a  severe  and  just  eye  it  rebukes  our 
sin,  and  leads  us  to  the  Cross  for  pardon.  We  must  be 
gladdened  with  its  benign  and  enrapturing  presence,  when 
with  a  calm  peace  in  the  conscience  it  rewards  us  for  obe- 
dience.    We  must  find  our  heaven  in  our  conformity  to 


'  Compare  Schiller's  WiUielm  Tell,  Act  I.,  Scene  iv.  ;  and  Milton's 
Sanason  Agonistes,  90-93. 


208  THE   LAW   18   LIGHT. 

God.  It  must  be  our  meat  and  drink  to  do  the  Divine 
will.  For  eternity  is  not  lighted  by  the  light  of  the  sun, 
nor  by  the  light  of  the  moon  ;  but  the  Loi'd  God  himself 
is  the  light  thereof.  The  happiness  of  our  spirits,  if  they 
are  saved,  will  not  be  found  in  material  things.  It  will 
not  issue  from  the  streets  of  gold,  from  the  gates  of  pearl, 
from  the  jewelry  and  adornments  of  a  material  city.  These 
are  but  emblems  and  faint  foreshadowmgs.  The  bliss  of 
the  blest  will  be  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost — the  consciousness  of  perfectly  loving  God,  and  of 
being  beloved  by  Him.  The  creature  can  have  no  higher 
joy  than  to  dwell  in  God's  holy  presence,  a  holy  being  for- 
ever. There  is  no  emotion  so  ecstatic  as  that  which  swells 
the  heart  that  can  sincerely  say  with  St.  Paul :  "  I  am 
Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's."  Truly  the  law  will  be  light 
in  that  perfect  world ;  the  great  sun  of  the  system.  It 
will  send  out  its  invigorating  and  gladdening  rays,  which 
will  penetrate,  like  the  tremulous  undulations  of  the  solar 
beam,  into  the  inmost  spirit.  It  will  warm  and  quicken 
the  whole  heavenly  world  into  life — into  holy  life,  into 
pure  activity,  into  serene  enjoyment. 

It  follows  from  this  unfolding  of  the  subject,  that  the 
great  act  of  the  Christian  is  the  act  oi  faith;  and  the  great 
work  of  the  Christian  is  to  cultivate  and  strengthen  his  faith. 
"  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  believe  on  Him  whom 
he  hath  sent."  We  have  seen  that  the  moral  law,  like  the 
material  light,  reveals,  attracts,  invigorates,  and  rejoices, 
only  because  the  soul  sustains  a  certain  special  relation  to 
it — only  because  it  is  trusting  in  Christ  for  deliverance 
from  its  condemnation,  and  for  grace  to  fulfil  it  in  future. 
What  then  should  we  do,  but  with  still  more  energy  obey 
the  great  command,  and  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
with  a  more  childlike  and  entire  trust.  If  the  holy  law  of 
God  has  ever  cast  any  cheering  and  pleasant  light  upon  us. 


THE  LAW   IS   LIGHT.  209 

it  has  been  by  virtue  of  this  faith.  If  the  law  shall  ever 
become  all-controlling  within  us,  it  will  be  through  this 
faith.  Faith  in  the  Redeemer  is  the  alpha  and  omega, 
the  first  and  the  last,  the  beginning,  middle,  and  end,  in 
the  religious  experience.  This  alone  renders  the  moral 
law  an  operative  and  actuating  principle  within  us.  By 
no  other  method  can  we  ever  fulfil  the  law. 

We  have  compared  the  law  to  the  sun  of  our  system. 
It  is  a  disputed  opinion  of  some  astronomers,  that  far 
beyond  our  sun,  and  all  other  suns,  there  is  a  point  in 
immensity  around  which,  as  the  ultimate  centre  of  cen- 
tres, these  myriad  suns  of  myriad  systems  all  circle. 
That  point  one  has  asserted  to  be  the  throne  of  God. 
So,  too — if  it  be  allowable  to  borrow  an  illustration  from 
a  doubtful  physics — if  the  Divine  law,  and  whatever  else 
there  may  be  in  the  great  immensity  of  truth,  is  ever  to 
become  an  eflScient  force  and  centre  of  motion  for  the  lost 
soul,  it  must  all  of  it  revolve  around  the  final  centre  and 
power,  namely,  simple  and  hearty  faith  in  the  Son  of  God. 
Faith  in  Christ  sets  up  the  throne  of  God  in  the  soul,  and 
when  this  is  done,  all  things  come  into  right  relation  to  it, 
and  move  in  proper  order  round  it.  Let  us  then  pray : 
"Lord,  increase  our  weak  faith."  Let  us  then  toil — by 
reading  and  meditating  upon  God's  "Word,  and  by  constant 
supplication  for  the  teaching  of  the  Holy  Spirit — after  a 
bolder,  firmer,  and  more  operative  faith. 


SEEMON  XIV. 

THE  LAW  IS  THE  STRENGTH  OF  SIN. 


1  Corinthians  xv.  56. — "  The  strength  of  sin  is  the  law." 


Any  man  who  thinks  or  feels  at  all  about  the  sin  that 
is  in  him,  knows  that  it  is  strong ;  and,  also,  that  it  is  the 
strongest  principle  within  him.  His  will  is  adequate  for 
all  the  other  undertakings  that  come  up  before  him  in 
life,  but  it  fails  the  moment  it  attempts  to  conquer  and 
subdue  itself.  He  rules  other  men,  but  he  does  not  rule 
himself  ;  and,  in  more  senses  than  one,  "he  that  is  slow  to 
anger  is  better  than  the  mighty,  and  he  that  ruleth  his 
spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a  city." 

The  experience  of  the  Christian,  likewise,  demonstrates 
that  sin  is  the  most  powerful  antagonist  that  man  has  to 
contend  with.  That  great  struggle  through  which  the 
believer  passes,  in  order  to  be  freed  from  the  bondage  of 
corruption,  summons  the  strongest  energies  of  the  soul, 
and  stretches  the  cords  of  the  inner  man  to  their  utmost 
tension.  Nay,  more,  this  heat  and  stress  of  the  Christian 
race  and  fight  evinces  that  man  must  be  "  strong  in  the 
Lord,"  in  order  to  overcome  sin.  "  The  power  of  God's 
might"  must  descend  and  dwell  in  the  human  soul,  or 
else  it  will  sink  in  the  struggle.  And  when  the  finite 
spirit  is  endued  with  this  power  from  on  high ;  when  it  is 


THE  LAW  IS  THE   STRENGTH   OF   SUST.  211 

laden,  as  it  were,  with  the  omnipotence  of  God ;  how  does 
it  tremble  and  reel  under  the  burden.  When  the  human 
soul  is  pervaded  by  the  presence  of  its  Maker,  in  the  hour 
'of  searching  convictions,  and  especially  of  severe  struggle 
with  long-indulged  habits  of  sin,  how  does  it  stagger  to 
and  fro  like  a  drunken  man.  Were  it  not  that  the  influ- 
ences of  the  Divine  Spirit,  while  they  press  the  soul  down, 
at  the  same  time  hold  it  up,  and  prevent  it  from  being 
utterly  cast  down,  the  frail  creature  would  not  be  able  to 
endure  such  a  strain.  If  the  man  were  all  permeated  by 
a  power  that  convicts  but  does  not  renovate ;  that  wakens 
a  sense  of  guilt,  but  does  not  apply  the  atoning  blood  ; 
that  sets  the  whole  inward  being  into  commotion,  but  does 
not  tranquillize  it  with  the  sense  and  assurance  of  forgive- 
ness and  love  ;  like  the  person  in  the  Gospel  possessed 
with  a  dumb  spirit,  he  would  be  "  torn,  and  be  as  one 
dead."  ]^ay,  he  would  be  dead  with  that  death  of  the 
spirit  which  is  a  vitality  of  anguish.  These  pangs  and 
throes,  attending  that  process  which  our  Lord  denominates 
a  "  birth  "  of  the  soul,  show  how  stubborn  and  inveterate 
is  the  sin  which  it  subdues  and  eradicates. 

What  is  the  cause  of  this  mighty  strength  of  sin  ?  The 
apostle  in  the  text  asserts,  somewhat  remarkably,  that  it  is 
the  law  of  God.     "  The  strength  of  sin  is  the  law." 

By  the  law  is  meant  the  sum  of  all  that  a  rational  being 
ought  to  do,  under  all  circumstances,  and  at  all  times.  It 
is  equivalent  to  duty — using  this  term  to  denote  the  col- 
lective body  or  mass,  if  we  may  so  say,  of  all  the  require- 
ments of  conscience  upon  a  man.  It  includes  all  that  is 
implied  in  the  word  right,  and  excludes  all  that  we  mean 
by  wrong.  At  first  sight,  it  appeai-s  passing  strange  that  a 
law  of  this  description  should,  in  any  sense,  be  said  to 
be  the  strength  of  sin.  Yet  such  is  the  explicit  assertion 
of  an  inspired  apostle.     And  elsewhere  the  same  apostle 


212  THE  LAW   IS   THE 

seems  to  vilify  the  ten  commandments.  He  tells  ns  that 
"  when  the  commandment  came,  sin  revived  ; "  and  that 
"  sin,  taking  occasion  by  the  commandment,  deceived  him, 
and  wrought  in  him  all  manner  of  concupiscence."  (Rom. 
vii.  8,  9,  11.) 

We  caunot  understand  these  statements,  unless  we  take 
into  view  the  difference  in  the  relation  which  a  holy  and 
a  sinful  being,  respectively,  sustains  to  the  moral  law. 
The  assertion  in  the  text  is  only  a  relative  one.  St.  Paul 
does  not  lay  down  an  absolute  and  universal  proposition. 
He  means  that  the  pure  and  holy  law  of  God  is  the 
strength  of  sin  for  a  sinne7\  For  the  saint,  on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  the  strength  of  holiness ;  and  had  the  apostle 
been  speaking  of  the  holy,  he  would  have  said  this.  The 
law  is  identically  the  same  thing  in  both  cases,  and  there- 
fore the  difference  in  its  effects  must  be  attributed  to  the 
different  attitude  which  the  natural  and  the  spiritual  man, 
respectively,  holds  toward  it.  In  the  instance  of  the  holy 
being,  the  law  of  righteousness  is  an  inward  and  actuat- 
ing jp7'incij)le.  It  is  his  own  loved  and  chosen  law,  and  he 
obeys  it  because  it  is  one  with  his  inclination,  and  he 
would  not  do  otherwise.  But  for  a  sinful  being,  the  law 
of  God  is  only  an  outward  rule,  and  not  an  inward  prin- 
ciple. Law  does  not  work  sweetly  and  pleasantly  within 
the  sinner,  but  stands  stern  and  severe  outside  of,  and  over 
him,  commanding  and  threatening.  The  moral  law  is  not 
internal  and  spontaneous  to  the  natural  man.  If  he 
attempts  to  obey  it,  he  does  so  from  fear,  or  self-interest, 
and  not  from  the  love  of  it.  It  is  not  his  own  chosen  law 
in  which  he  delights,  but  a  hated  statute,  to  which  his  heart 
and  inclination  are  in  deadly  opposition.  The  "  law  of 
sin  "  is  the  sole  inward  principle  that  rules  him,  and  his 
service  of  sin  is  spontaneous  and  willing.  In  short,  the  law 
of  righteousness  is  the  strength  of  sin  for  the  sinner,  be- 


STEENGTH   OF  SIN.  213 

cause  it  is  extraneous,  and  hostile,  to  his  will  and  affections. 
It  is  written  upon  his  conscience,  but  not  written  into  his 
heart.  God's  law  and  the  human  conscience  are  one  and 
harmonious ;  but  God's  law  and  the  human  will  are  diverse 
and  antagonistic.  Hence  the  Scriptures  describe  regenera- 
tion as  the  inwardizing  of  the  moral  law.  "  This  shall  be 
the  covenant  that  I  will  make  with  the  house  of  Israel : 
After  those  days,  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  put  my  law  in  their 
inward  parts,  and  write  it  in  their  hearts  ;  and  1  will  be 
their  God,  and  they  shall  be  my  people."  (Jer.  xxxi.  33.) 
According  to  this  description,  to  regenerate  a  man  is  to 
make  the  law  of  God  internal,  impulsive,  and  spontaneous, 
where  before  it  has  been  external,  compulsory,  and  threat- 
ening ;  it  is  to  convert  duty  into  inclination,  so  that  the 
man  shall  know  no  difference  between  the  commands  of 
God  and  the  desires  of  his  own  heart. 

Before  proceeding  to  unfold  and  illustrate  the  truth 
taught  in  the  text,  let  us  notice  the  fact,  that  the  two 
principles,  or  in  St.  Paul's  phrase  "  laws,"  of  holiness  and 
sin,  which  operate  in  the  moral  world,  in  order  to  have 
efficiency  must  be  within  the  heart  and  will.  If  the  law 
of  righteousness,  for  example,  does  not  abide  and  work  in 
the  inclination  and  affections  of  a  man,  the  mere  fact  that 
it  is  inlaid  in  his  conscience  will  not  secure  obedience. 
The  ten  commandments  may  be  cut  into  the  hard,  unyield- 
ing stone  of  the  moral  sense,  but  unless  they  are  also  written 
in  the  soft,  fleshy  tablet  of  the  heart,  they  will  be  in- 
operative, except  in  the  form  of  conviction  and  condemna- 
tion. The  moral  law  must  be  "  in  the  members,"  in  St. 
Paul's  phrase — that  is,  it  must  be  wrought  into  the  feel- 
ings and  disposition  of  the  person — before  it  can  be  effect- 
ual and  productive. 

The  laws  or  principles  of  holiness  and  sin  may  fitly  be 
compared   with   the  great  fruitful  laws  that  w^ork   and 


214  THE  LAW   IS  THE 

weave  in  the  world  of  nature.  All  these  laws  are  internal. 
They  start  from  within,  and  work  outward.  They  per- 
meate and  pervade,  and  not  merely  affix  and  attach  them- 
selves to,  the  products  of  nature.  The  principle  of  life  in 
the  tree  is  not  dropped  down  upon  the  tree  like  dew  from 
without,  but  rises  up  from  within  it  like  an  exhalation. 
How  wonderfully  productive  and  mighty,  because  internal, 
are  the  movements  of  the  law  of  vegetable  life,  which  car- 
pets with  bright  flowers  the  meadows  of  half  a  continent, 
and  sends  the  sap  through  every  twig  of  every  tree  in  its 
vast  forests.  This  law  lives,  and  develops  itself,  within 
these  productions. 

All  this  holds  true  of  the  mental  world,  equally  with « 
the  physical.  In  the  upper  blessed  realm  of  heaven,  the 
law  of  holiness  works  as  an  inward  and  spontaneous  force 
in  every  one  of  its  inhabitants.  Issuing  from  the  infinite 
and  glorious  Fountain  of  purity,  it  takes  its  course  through 
all  the  happy  spirits,  producing  the  fruits  of  holiness 
throughout  its  bright  track,  and  building  up  a  beautiful 
world  of  order,  light,  and  purity.  And  it  is  equally  true, 
that  throughout  the  realm  of  hell,  the  law  of  sin  as  an  in- 
ward principle  of  life  and  action — self-chosen,  it  is  true, 
and  not  forced  upon  any  one,  yet  internal  to  the  will,  and 
thoroughly  inwrought  into  the  affections  —  is  working 
within  every  individual  member  of  that  world.  And  the 
fact  that  there  is  such  a  realm,  where  the  principle  of  evil  in 
antagonism  to  the  principle  of  good  is  unfolding  itself,  and 
multiplying  its  unsightly  and  deadly  products,  should  make 
every  man  thoughtful,  and  lead  him  to  inquire  most  ear- 
nestly :  "  Am  I  in  and  of  this  realm  ?  am  I,  in  Christ's 
phrase,  '  from  beneath '  ?  is  the  law  of  sin  the  inward  and 
actuating  principle  of  my  will  ?  " 

In  the  light  of  this  illustration,  let  us  now  look  more 
closely  at  the  attitude  which  the  unrenewed  will  maintains 


STKENGTH   OF   SIN".  215 

toward  the  Divine  law.  The  law  of  righteousness,  con- 
fessedly, is  not  the  inward,  actuating  force  in  a  sinner's 
will.  It  is  the  law  of  sin  which  is  "  in  his  members  " — 
which  is  internal  to  him — and  which,  consequently,  is  the 
only  one  that  can  bear  fruits.  And  how  rank  and  luxuri- 
ant they  are ;  with  what  ease  are  they  produced ;  how 
willingly  and  spontaneously  does  he  sin.  There  is  nothing 
artificial  or  mechanical  in  man's  iniquity.  There  are  no 
spurious  and  "  dead  "  works  on  the  side  of  transgression. 
Sin  is  always  alive  and  genuine.  Man  is  never  a  formal- 
ist, or  a  hypocrite,  in  his  disobedience.  This  work  is 
hearty,  and  springs  from  an  inward  principle.  Yet  the 
law  of  holiness  is  the  one  that  ought  to  bear  the  fruit. 
But  it  cannot,  until  it  ceases  to  be  external  and  threaten- 
ing, and  becomes  internal  and  complacent.  So  long  as  the 
existing  inimical  relation  continues  between  the  moral  law 
and  the  voluntary  faculty ;  so  long  as  the  law  of  God  is  a 
letter  on  the  statute-book  of  the  conscience,  but  not  a  let- 
ter written  in  the  fleshy  tablet  of  the  heart ;  so  long  must 
it  be  inoperative,  except  in  the  way  of  death  and  misery. 
The  law  of  holiness  must  cease  to  be  outwardly  commina- 
tory  and  dreadful,  and  become  inwardly  attractive  and  be- 
loved, before  any  fruits  of  righteousness  can  spring  up. 
Is  not  this  righteous  law  "  the  strength  of  sin "  in  us,  so 
long  as  it  merely  weighs  down  with  a  mountain's  weight 
upon  our  enslaved  wills?  so  long  as- it  merely  holds  a  whip 
of  scorpions  over  our  opposing  inclination,  and  lashes  it 
into  anger  and  resistance  ?  so  long  as  it  merely  presents 
the  sharp  goads  of  duty  that  stab  our  unwillingness  ?  How 
can  there  be  any  moral  growth,  in  the  midst  of  such  a 
hatred  and  hostility  between  the  human  heart  and  the 
moral  law  ?  Cicero  tells  us  that  the  laws  are  ineffectual  in 
war-time — '"''silent  leges  inter  armaP  And  neither  can 
flowers  and  fruits  grow  on  a  battle-field.     As  well  might 


216  THE  LAW  IS   THE 

we  suppose  that  the  vegetation  which  now  constitutes  the 
coal-beds  grew  up  in  that  geological  era  when  fire  and 
water  were  contending  for  possession  of  the  planet,  as 
to  suppose  that  the  fruits  of  holiness  can  spring  up  when 
the  human  will  is  in  obstinate  and  deadly  conflict  with  the 
human  conscience.  So  long  as  the  heart  of  man  sustains 
this  outside  and  hostile  relation  to  holiness,  and  righteous- 
ness comes  before  it  as  the  hated  quality  and  the  stern 
command  of  another's  will,  and  is  not  in  the  least  its  own 
sweet  inclination,  obedience  is  impossible.  The  law  of 
righteousness  can  produce  no  effects  in  character  and  con- 
duct until  it  is  obeyed  from  an  inward  impulse  and  spon- 
taneity, as  the  law  of  sin  now  is. 

We  have  thus,  in  a  general  way,  noticed  that  the  Divine 
law  is  "  the  strength  of  sin,"  whenever  it  is  an  external 
commandment  coupled  with  a  threatening,  and  not  an  in- 
ternal principle  coupled  with  an  affection.  Let  us  now 
consider  some  particulars  which  illustrate  and  explain 
more  fully  this  doctrine  of  the  text. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  so  long  as  the  law  sustains  this  ex- 
traneous relation  to  the  heart  and  will,  there  is  no  genuine 
obedience.  For  genuine  obedience  is  voluntary,  cheerful, 
and  spontaneous.  The  child  does  not  truly  obey  its  pa- 
rent, when  it  performs  an  outward  act,  outwardly  insisted 
upon  by  its  superior,  from  no  inward  genial  impulse,  but 
solely  from  the  force  of  fear.  So  also  the  moralist,  in 
whom  the  law  has  not  become  a  hearty  principle  of  willing 
action,  does  not  truly  comply  with  it.  He  may  perform 
some  outwardly  moral  acts,  but  he  does  them  mechanically 
and  insincerely ;  and  neither  mechanism  nor  insincerity  is 
of  the  nature  of  obedience. 

It  is  here  that  we  see  the  difference  between  a  moral 
man  and  a  religious  man.  The  moralist  attempts,  from 
considerations  of  prudence,  fear,  and  self-interest,  to  ex- 


STRENGTH   OF  SIN.  217 

ternally  obey  the  external  and  comminatory  law  of  God. 
It  is  not  a  law  that  he  loves,  but  one  which  he  would  keep 
because  of  the  penalty  attached  to  it.  And  yet,  after  all 
his  attempts  at  obedience,  he  is  conscious  of  utter  failure. 
In  his  moments  of  reflection,  he  sees  that  it  is  no  genuine 
compliance  and  submission  which  he  renders,  and  that  it 
is  not  valid  before  Him  who  looketh  not  on  the  outward 
appearance,  but  upon  the  heart.  And  at  times,  perhaps, 
he  would  wish  that  this  selfish  attempt  to  square  accounts 
with  his  Maker  might  be  supplanted  by  a  free,  filial  im- 
pulse of  the  soul — that  his  conscience  might  be  converted 
into  his  will.  But  the  renewed  and  sanctified  man,  so  far 
as  he  is  such,  "  obeys  from  the  heart  the  form  of  doctrine 
that  is  delivered  "  unto  him.  The  holy  law,  though  im- 
perfectly, yet  predominantly,  has  become  his  inclination, 
and  overfiows  in  holy  feelings  and  acts.  "  The  law,"  in 
the  phrase  of  the  Psalmist,  "  is  within  his  heart,  and  none 
of  his  steps  shall  slide."  The  Holy  Spirit  has  inwardized 
it.  The  law  has  become  his  natural  disposition,  and  when 
he  acts  naturally  he  acts  holily,  and  when  he  sins  he  is 
uneasy,  because  sin  is  unnatural  to  a  renewed  heart. 

Again,  we  may  perceive  that  the  obedience  rendered  to 
the  law  by  one  who  does  not  feel  it  to  be  his  own  law,  is 
not  real  and  genuine,  by  noticing  the  appearance  which  it 
exhibits.  Everything  that  is  genuine,  spontaneous,  and 
voluntary,  wears  the  garb  of  grace  and  beauty ;  while  that 
which  is  false,  protended,  and  constrained,  has  the  look  of 
deformit}'.  That  alone  which  is  alive,  and  the  product  of 
an  inward  principle,  is  beautiful.  The  growing  plant, 
with  the  dew  fresh  upon  it,  immediately  attracts  our  gaze ; 
but  we  turn  away  from  the  splendid  artificial  flower.  So 
is  it  with  the  appearance  which  the  moralist  and  the  be- 
liever, respectively,  presents.  The  one  is  rigid,  hard,  and 
formal.  "We  feel  instinctively  that  he  is  a  precise  and  un- 
10 


218  THE^LAW   IS   THE 

happy  person ;  that  he  rather  endures  his  religion  than 
enjoys  it.  The  other  is  a  free,  cheerful,  pliant  creature. 
The  Son  hath  made  him  free,  and  he  is  free  indeed.  His 
is  the  obedience  of  love  and  of  natui-e ;  not  of  fear  and 
compulsion.  The  principle  of  spiritual  life — the  moral  law 
now  made  internal,  and  one  with  his  heart  and  will — is 
warm  and  plastic  within  him,  and  carries  warmth,  vigor, 
and  robustness  through  the  whole  system.  All  his  acts  of 
obedience  to  the  Divine  commands  are  what  we  expect 
from  him.  They  suit  him,  and  wear  no  forced  look.  In 
fine,  the  difference  between  the  fruits  of  the  law  of  holi- 
ness when  it  is  in  the  heart,  and  those  of  the  same  law 
when  it  is  merely  in  the  conscience,  is  like  that  between 
those  fruits  into  which  the  vegetative  principle  has  infused 
cooling  juices,  rich  flavors,  and  pleasant  odors,  and  those 
imitations  of  fruit  which  are  lifeless  and  tasteless. 

Another  criterion  of  genuine  obedience  is  love.  But  so 
long  as  the  law  sustains  this  extraneous  and  hostile  relation 
to  the  heart  and  will,  there  is  no  love  of  it,  or  its  Author. 
Examine  the  feeling  of  the  unrenewed  though  perhaps 
moral  man,  and  do  you  find  that  calm,  settled  affection  for 
the  statutes  and  commandments  of  God  which  evinces  that 
they  are  wrought  into  the  very  fibre  and  texture  of  the 
soul  ?  Have  they  not  been  expelled  from  the  affections, 
and  does  not  the  man  sometimes  wish  that  he  could  expel 
them  also  from  his  conscience  ?  And  even  if  he  some- 
times attempts  to  obey  them  because  he  fears  to  transgress 
them,  yet  does  he  not,  in  the  depths  of  his  soul,  wish  that 
he  could  free  himself  from  their  everlasting  restraint? 
And  although,  from  the  same  motives  of  fear  or  selfish 
prudence,  lie  may  repress  violent  outbreaks  of  passion  and 
rebellion,  yet  is  all  within  him  calm  and  serene  ?  Is  there 
not  a  noiseless  friction  and  wearing  within  ?  Is  he  not  at 
schism  with  himself  ?     Are  not  conscience  and  will  con- 


STEENGTH   OF   SIN.  219 

tinually  at  war  ?  Even  if  the  surface  be  placid,  and  there 
is  not  a  ripple  upon  it,  yet  far  down  in  the  fountains  of 
his  soul ;  in  those  depths  where  the  feelings,  and  propen- 
sities, and  all  the  main  and  primal  agency  of  the  man  has 
its  source  ;  in  those  lowest  recesses,  where  the  real  charac- 
ter of  the  man  is  to  be  sought  for ;  is  there  not  a  restless 
eddying  and  whirl  ?  No  man  can  love  God's  law  in  this 
state  of  things.  No  man  can  have  a  cordial  affection  for 
it,  until  it  becomes  the  inward  and  actuating  principle,  the 
real  inclination  of  his  will ;  until  his  will  is  renewed,  and 
he  obeys  the  law  because  he  would  not  do  otherwise.  Yet 
the  law  overhangs  him  all  this  while,  and  since  it  cannot 
produce  the  fruits  of  peace  and  holiness,  it  betakes  itself 
to  its  other  function,  and  elicits  his  corruption,  and  exas- 
perates his  depravity.  And  thus  the  law,  for  the  sinner, 
is  the  stimulus  and  strength  of  sin. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  so  long  as  the  extraneous  relation 
spoken  of  continues  between  law  and  will,  there  not  only  is 
no  true  obedience,  but  obedience  is  iiivpossHle.  For  the  law 
is  entirely  outside  of  the  executive  faculty.  It  is  in  the 
conscience,  but  not  in  the  heart.  It  consequently  gives  no 
impulse  and  aid  to  right  action,  but  only  passes  a  penal, 
damning  sentence,  the  effect  of  which  is  paralyzing.  The 
law  sternly  tells  the  man  that  by  his  own  determination  and 
fault  he  is  "  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,"  and  condemns 
him  therefor ;  but  so  long  as  it  is  merely  didactic  and 
comminatory,  and  not  impulsive  and  indwelling,  he  derives 
from  it  none  of  that  strength  which  empowers  to  right- 
eousness. The  man  in  chains  is  not  animated  and  assisted 
to  freedom,  by  being  merely  informed  that  he  is  chained, 
or  by  being  sternly  commanded  to  tear  off  his  chains. 
Until  the  law  has  become  the  loved  and  chosen  law  of  the 
will,  as  well  as  the  organic  law  of  the  conscience,  it  cannot 
be  obeyed.     God's  law  follows  man  like  God's  oranipres- 


220  THE   LAW   IS   THE 

ence,  and  if  he  ascend  into  heaven  it  has  authority  there, 
and  if  he  descend  into  hell  even  there  conscience  affirms 
that  it  must  be  obeyed  ;  but  wheresoever  it  follows  him, 
if  he  does  not  love  it  he  cannot  obey  it,  if  it  is  not  in  his 
will  it  can  produce  no  fruits  of  holiness.  The  tree  cannot 
bear  fruit,  if  the  principle  of  life  is  outside  of  it.  The 
tree  is  dead. 

But  in  the  Christian,  the  law  of  holiness,  by  virtue  of 
his  regeneration  and  union  with  Christ,  has  become  in- 
ward, spontaneous,  and  voluntary.  It  is  no  longer  a  mere 
fiery  letter  in  his  conscience,  giving  him  knowledge  of  his 
sinfulness,  and  distressing  him  therefor ;  but  it  is  a  glow- 
ing and  genial  impulse  in  his  heart.  His  duty  is  now  his 
inclination,  and  his  now  holy  inclination  is  his  duty.  The 
two  are  one,  and  undivided  in  his  consciousness.  The 
schism  in  the  soul  is  healed.  Through  the  renewing  in- 
fluences of  the  Spirit  of  God,  the  commandment  has  again 
become  a  vital  force  in  the  soul,  as  it  was  before  the  fall. 
As  the  apostle  calls  it,  it  is  "  the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life 
in  Christ  Jesus  " — the  living  spirit  of  law.  And  this  is 
the  reason  why  the  Christian,  in  proportion  to  the  close- 
ness of  his  union  to  Christ,  and  the  simplicity  of  his  faith 
in  Him,  finds  it  easy,  pleasant,  and  natural  to  keep  the 
Divine  law.  The  law  in  a  Christian  is  spontaneous  and 
self-executing.  Says  an  old  divine:  "The  law  of  the 
Spirit  of  life  within  the  renewed  will  is  as  if  the  soul  of 
music  should  incorporate  itself  with  the  instrument,  and 
live  in  the  strings,  and  make  them,  of  their  own  accord, 
and  without  any  touch  or  impulse  from  without,  dance  up 
and  down  and  warble  out  their  harmonies." ' 

1.  This  subject  as  thus  unfolded  shows,  in  the  first 
place,  that  it  is  an  immense  worh  to  make  such  an  entire 

■  Cudworth :  Sermon  before  the  House  of  Commons. 


STRENGTH   OF  SIN.  221 

change  and  reversal  in  the  relations  that  now  exist  between 
man's  will  and  the  Divine  law.  The  problem  is,  to  trans- 
mute the  law  of  God  into  the  very  inclination  of  a  man, 
so  that  the  two  shall  be  one  and  the  same  thing  in  the 
personal  experience,  and  the  man  shall  know  no  difference 
between  the  dictates  of  his  conscience  and  the  desires  of 
his  heart.  The  investigation  has  demonstrated  that  there 
is  now,  not  only  no  such  unity  and  unison  between  will 
and  conscience  in  man,  but  that  the  former  is  deadly  hos- 
tile to  the  latter,  and  wholly  extraneous  to  it.  It  shows, 
moreover,  that  until  the  right  harmonious  relation  is  es- 
tablished again  between  these  two  fundamental  parts  of 
man  ;  until  the  constitutional  and  the  voluntary  are  once 
more  in  unison  ;  all  other  adjustment  is  useless,  so  far  as 
the  eternal  world  is  concerned ;  that  it  is  in  reality  no  ad- 
justment at  all ;  that  the  man  must,  in  our  Lord's  phrase, 
"  make  the  tree  good,  and  so  the  fruit  good,  or  else  let  it 
remain  corrupt,  and  its  fruit  corrupt." 

"We  appeal  to  the  daily  experience  of  every  thinking 
person,  whether  this  is  not  the  truth.  Are  we  not  aware, 
that  if  our  will  and  affections  do  not  undergo  such  a 
change  in  their  central  determination  and  inmost  bent, 
that  the  law  of  holiness  becomes  spontaneous  to  them, 
and  vital  within  them,  all  of  our  desultory  attempts  under 
the  goadings  of  conscience  to  keep  it  are  in  vain  ?  Do  we 
not  know  that  unless  our  heart  is  in  the  work  of  obedience, 
we  do  not  and  cannot  obey  ?  When  the  law  of  God, 
reaching  to  every  thought,  and  to  every  word,  merely  stands 
over  us,  and  above  us,  commanding  and  threatening,  and 
our  wills  and  affections  are  hostile  and  resistant,  instead  of 
being  sweetly  blended  and  accordant,  do  we  not  see  that 
nothing  holy  and  spiritual  can  be  done  in  this  state  of 
things  ?  So  long  as  our  executive  and  affectionate  powers 
stand  in  this  alien  and  outside  relation  to  the  law,  can 


222  THE   LAW   IS   THE 

there  be  any  geniality  or  complacency  toward  it  ?  Until 
we  can  say  with  the  Psalmist :  "  I  delight  to  do  thy  will, 
O  my  God ;  yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart,"  can  we  ren- 
der the  Psalmist's  obedience  ? 

The  change  in  the  human  soul  which  establishes  this 
inward  relation  and  accordancy  between  will  and  con- 
science, is  denominated  in  Scripture  a  "birth,"  a  "new 
creation,"  and  is  the  most  marked  change  which  a  rational 
spirit  can  undergo,  with  the  exception  of  that  great  catas- 
trophe by  which  it  falls  from  the  heavens  to  the  hells. 
Without  such  a  change,  the  being  is  in  continual  antago- 
nism and  war  with  himself,  and  with  God.  "  There  are 
times,"  says  Tholuck,  "  in  the  life  of  the  natural  man, 
when  he  seems  to  be  possessed  with  a  demon  that  tears 
and  weakens  him.  When,  with  the  swelling  power  of 
passion  circling  in  his  veins,  and  the  whole  world  with  its 
enjoyments  opens  itself  wide  for  his  gratification,  he  hears 
the  solemn  voice  of  law  saying :  '  Deny  thyself,  deny  thy- 
self,' what  commotion  rises  within  him !  What  wonder  is 
it,  if,  when  excited  to  madness  by  this  holy  commandment 
which  he  hates  but  fears,  he  cries  out :  '  Let  me  tear  ofE 
these  bands ;  let  me  cast  away  these  cords '  ? "  '  Such  a 
commotion  and  ferment,  which  more  or  less  violent  arises 
in  the  soul  of  man  in  some  periods  of  his  life  here  on 
earth,  and  will  last  forever  if  it  is  not  stilled  by  a  work  of 
grace  within,  evinces  that  in  our  natural  state  we  are  not 
in  right  relations  ;  for  where  right  relation  exists  there  is 
harmony  and  peace.  This  fact  must  be  acknowledged  to 
ourselves,  and  receive  our  earnest  attention.  This  renova- 
tion of  the  affections  and  the  will — this  production  of  new 
character — must  occur  here  in  this  world,  or  it  will  never 
occur.     And  after  its  occurrence,  it  will  still  be  a  slow  and 

>  Tholuck :  Predigten,  IL  54. 


STRENGTH   OF   SIIS".  223 

toilsome  process  to  root  out  the  remainders  of  sin,  and  re- 
move the  last  elements  of  discord  and  dissension  from  the 
soul. 

2.  The  second  inference  from  this  subject  must  have 
been  already  anticipated — that  this  inwardizing  of  the 
Divine  law ;  this  "  putting  the  law  in  the  inward  parts, 
and  writing  it  in  the  heart "  (Jer,  xxxi.  33) ;  is  the  work 
and  office  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  is  the  result  of  God's 
"  working  in  man  to  will  and  to  do."  Sinful  man  is  spir- 
itually impotent,  and  feels  himself  to  be  so,  particularly 
when  he  undertakes  to  become  the  very  contrary  of  what 
he  is  ;  when  he  tries  to  make  himself  as  totally  holy  as  he  is 
totally  sinful.  Let  a  man  look  into  his  own  soul,  and  see 
how  spontaneously  he  now  does  wrong,  and  how  delicious  it 
now  is  to  indulge  himself  in  that  which  is  forbidden  ;  and 
then  let  him  remember,  that  in  order  to  heavenly  perfec- 
tion and  blessedness  he  must  come  into  such  an  exactly 
contrary  moral  state,  that  it  will  be  just  as  spontaneous  for 
him  to  do  right,  and  just  as  delicious  for  him  to  keep  the 
commandments  of  God — let  him,  we  repeat,  look  into  his 
heart  and  see  what  the  character  now  is,  and  what  it  must 
become  in  order  to  heaven,  and  then  say  if  he  does  not 
need  the  operation  and  aids  of  Divine  grace.  Nothing  so 
throws  a  man  upon  his  knees,  and  prompts  the  utterance : 
"  I  am  the  clay,  be  thou  the  potter ;  turn  thou  me  and  I 
shall  be  turned ;  purge  me  with  hyssop  and  I  shall  be 
clean  ;  create  within  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God  " — nothing 
so  drives  man  away  from  himself  to  his  Maker  and  Sa- 
viour, as  a  clear  understanding  of  the  immensity  of  the 
work  that  must  be  done  within  his  own  soul  before  it  is  fit 
for  the  heavenly  state. 

The  subject  clearly  demonstrates  the  necessity  of  the 
new  birth,  and  of  the  sanctification  of  body,  soul,  and 
spirit,  that  follows  it.     "  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he 


224  THE  LAW   IS  THE  STRENGTH   OF   SIIST. 

cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  We  have  seen  from  the 
unfolding  of  the  text,  and  human  experience  will  corrob- 
orate it,  that  so  long  as  the  Divine  law  is  not  an  inward 
principle  of  willing  and  cheerful  action  for  us,  and  we  do 
not  love  it  from  the  heart,  it  can  only  be  "  the  strength  of 
sin  "  for  us.  It  only  accuses  of  sin ;  it  only  revives  and 
stimulates  the  inward  corruption  ;  it  only  detects  and 
brings  sin  to  light.  This  is  all  the  law  can  do  for  us  as 
sinners.  The  Word  of  God  informs  us  of  a  method  by 
which  this  state  of  things  can  be  changed,  and  we  can 
stand  in  the  same  relation  to  the  law  of  righteousness  that 
God  himself  does,  and  the  holy  angels.  It  is  by  the  wash- 
ing of  regeneration,  and  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
If  we  ask  for  this  we  shall  receive  it.  If  we  seek  it,  we 
shall  find  it.  "  For  if  ye  being  evil  know  how  to  give 
good  gifts  unto  your  children,  how  much  more  shall  your 
heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask 
him."  We  must  pray  importunately  and  incessantly  for 
renewing  and  sanctifying  grace.  When  God  answers  that 
prayer — and,  in  the  parable  of  the  widow  and  the  unjust 
judge,  Christ  commands  every  man  to  pray  until  he  gets 
an  answer — when  God  answers  that  prayer,  the  law  of  ho- 
liness shall  be  made  the  strength  of  holiness  in  our  heart 
and  in  our  will.  It  shall  become  a  living  principle  within 
us  forever,  gathering  strength  and  acquiring  settled  firm- 
ness as  we  pass  on  through  the  ages  of  a  blessed  eternity, 
and  producing  in  richer  and  richer  bloom  the  fruits  of 
holiness  and  love. 


SERMOK  XY. 

THE  SENSE  OF  SIN  LEADS  TO  HOLINESS,  AND  THE  CONCEIT 
OF  HOLINESS  LEADS  TO  SIN. 


John  ix.  41. — "Jesus  said  unto  them,  If  ye  were  blind,  ye  should 
have  no  sin  :  but  now  ye  say,  We  see  ;  therefore  your  sin  renaaineth." 


Some  of  the  most  striking  and  significant  teachings  of 
Christ  are  put  into  the  form  of  a  verbal  contradiction. 
Taking  them  literally,  they  not  only  contain  no  sense,  but 
are  not  even  self -consistent.  Such,  for  example,  is  the 
declaration  that  "  he  that  findeth  his  life  shall  lose  it,  and 
he  that  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it."  If  we  read  this  text 
in  its  connection,  so  as  to  understand  the  intent  of  our 
Lord's  teaching,  we  not  only  comprehend  it,  but  we  per- 
ceive that  he  could  not  have  adopted  a  more  terse  and 
effective  mode  of  conveying  his  meaning.  The  apparent 
and  verbal  contradiction :  "  He  that  finds  his  life  shall 
lose  his  life,  and  he  that  loses  his  life  shall  find  his  life," 
only  serves  to  impress  the  lesson  all  the  more  vividly  upon 
the  mind.  The  same  remark  holds  true  of  such  sayings 
as  these :  "  Whosoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken 
away  even  that  he  hath.  Therefore  speak  I  to  them  in 
parables ;  because  they  seeing,  see  not ;  and  hearing,  they 
hear  not."  In  these  instances  the  impressiveness  of  the 
truth  taught  is  all  the  greater,  from  its  being  couched  in 
terms  that  would  nonplus  a  mere  verbal  critic.  For  such 
10* 


226  THE   SENSE   OF   SIN. 

a  critic  would  begin  his  analysis  and  ask :  "  How  can  any- 
thing be  taken  away  from  one  who  has  nothing  ?  How 
can  a  man  see  and  not  see ;  how  can  he  hear  and  not  hear; 
at  one  and  the  same  time  ? " 

The  passage  of  Scripture  which  we  have  chosen  for  a 
text  is  another  striking  example  of  the  same  sort.  "  Jesus 
said  unto  them,  If  ye  were  blind,  ye  should  have  no  sin  : 
but  now  ye  say,  We  see ;  therefore  your  sin  remaineth." 
This  startling  statement  had  been  preceded,  and  called 
out,  by  another  equally  startling  and  apparently  self -con- 
tradictory. For  Christ  had  said  to  the  Pharisees  :  "  For 
judgment  I  am  come  into  this  world,  that  they  which  see 
might  be  made  blind."  Here,  if  we  interpret  the  language 
in  a  bald  and  literal  manner,  the  Son  of  God  represents 
his  mission  to  be  one  of  darkness  and  not  of  light.  He 
who  calls  himself  the  light  of  the  world,  here  speaks  of 
himself  as  coming  into  it,  not  for  the  purpose  of  illumi- 
nating the  human  soul,  but  of  darkening  it.  The  Pharisees 
were  perplexed  by  such  a  statement,  and  asked :  "  Are 
we  blind  also  ? "  To  whom  our  Lord  made  the  reply  : 
"  If  ye  were  blind,  ye  should  have  no  sin :  but  now  ye 
say.  We  see ;  therefore  your  sin  remaineth."  That  is  to 
say :  "If  ye  Pharisees  felt  yourselves  to  be  blind  ;  if 
ye  were  conscious  of  your  mental  darkness  ;  ye  would  open 
your  hearts  to  me,  the  light  of  the  world,  and  the  sin  of 
unbelief,  which  is  the  greatest  of  sins,  would  no  longer  be 
chargeable  upon  you.  But  ye  are  self-satisfied  ;  ye  feel  no 
need  of  my  teachings  ;  ye  say  in  the  pride  of  your  minds, 
We  see ;  therefore  the  sin  of  unbelief  remains  and  rests 
upon  you." 

We  condense  the  teaching  of  this  passage  of  Scripture 
in  the  proposition,  that  the  sense  of  sin  leads  to  holiness^ 
and  the  conceit  of  holiness  leads  to  sin. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  sense  of  sin  conducts  to  holi- 


THE   CONCEIT   OF   HOLINESS.  227 

ness,  upon  the  general  principle  of  demand  and  sujpply. 
We  are  in  the  habit  of  saymg,  in  respect  to  earthly  affairs, 
that  the  demand  will  always  create  a  supply.  If  one 
nation  requires  grain  from  abroad,  another  nation  will 
plant,  and  sow,  and  reap,  to  meet  the  requisition.  If 
America  needs  certain  manufactured  fabrics  which  it  can- 
not well  produce,  the  artisans  of  Paris  and  Lyons  will  toil 
to  furnish  them.  From  year  to  year,  in  the  world  of 
trade  and  commerce,  the  wants  of  mankind  are  met  by 
the  operation  of  this  principle.  Though  there  may  be 
a  temporary  dearth,  and  the  demand  may  go  unsupplied 
for  a  time,  yet  this  does  not  continue  long.  The  rise  in 
value  stimulates  production,  and  the  empty  markets  are 
filled  again,  perhaps  to  repletion. 

The  same  fact  meets  us  in  the  operations  of  Divine 
Providence.  The  goodness  of  God  is  over  all  his  works. 
He  opens  his  hand,  and  satisfies  the  desire  of  every  living 
thing.  He  gives  to  the  beast  his  food,  and  to  the  young 
ravens  when  they  cry.  The  supply  equals  the  demand. 
This  is  the  ordinary  and  common  course  in  the  physical 
world,  under  the  government  and  providence  of  God. 
Famines  are  the  exception,  and  not  the  rule.  Seed-time 
and  harvest  fail  not  from  century  to  century.  The  de- 
mand for  food  is  supplied.  And  there  is  no  surplus  to  be 
wasted.  There  is  a  wonderful  adjustment  between  the 
physical  wants  of  man  and  the  physical  objects  that  meet 
them.  Though  harvests  of  grain  wave  over  the  whole 
globe,  and  millions  of  mouths  are  to  be  fed,  the  com  and 
wheat  of  the  world  never  falls  alarmingly  short,  and,  what 
is  equally  remarkable,  never  rots  in  large  amounts  in  the 
granaries.  How  wonderful  is  that  eye  which  sees  the  end 
from  the  beginning,  and  though  there  is  an  infinitude  of 
elements  that  enter  into  the  problem — millions  of  hungry 
mortals,  and  billions  of  bushels  of  grain — yet,  as  in  the 


228  THE   SENSE   OF   SIN. 

instance  of  the  manna,  "  he  that  had  gathered  much  had 
nothing  over;  and  he  that  had  gathered  little  had  no 
lack."  Under  the  ordinary  care  of  Providence,  every 
man,  in  the  phrase  of  Malthus,  finds  a  cover  laid  for  him 
at  the  table  of  nature ;  and  those  are  the  exceptions  in 
which  the  craving  creature  is  sent  empty  away  ;  in  which 
the  demand  is  not  met  by  the  supply. 

Much  more  is  this  ti-ue  within  the  kingdom  of  religion 
and  grace.  If  God  is  ready  and  desirous  to  meet  a  demand 
within  the  physical  sphere  ;  if  his  benevolence  leads  him  to 
feed  the  ravens,  and  "  providently  cater  for  the  sparrow  ; " 
his  mercy  and  compassion  render  him  still  more  ready  and 
willing  to  supply  the  spiritual  wants  of  his  sinful  creatures. 
We  do  not  Realize  it,  and  perhaps  we  do  not  believe  it,  but 
it  is  a  blessed  and  actual  fact  that  God  takes  greater 
pleasure  in  filling  the  hungry  soul,  than  the  hungry  mouth ; 
in  feeding  the  immortal  spirit,  than  in  feeding  the  mortal 
body.  His  declaration  is  explicit,  that  he  is  more  willing 
to  give  the  IJoly  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him,  than  an 
earthly  parent  is  to  give  bread  to  his  children.  If  there 
were  only  a  deinand  upon  the  part  of  man  for  the 
heavenly  food,  as  urgent  and  importunate  as  there  is  for 
the  earthly  food,  the  supply  would  be  immediately  forth- 
coming, and  in  infinite  abundance.  If  man  craved  grace 
as  much  as  he  craves  wealth,  or  honor,  the  heavens  would 
drop  down  and  dissolve  in  a  rain  of  righteousness.  Were 
mankind  as  hungry  for  holiness  and  purity  as  they  are  for 
bread ;  did  the  human  soul  pant  for  God  as  it  does  for 
pleasure  and  fame  ;  the  consequences  would  astonish  men 
and  angels.  For  no  sinful  creature,  so  long  as  he  is  under 
an  economy  of  grace,  can  come  to  know  his  religious  neces- 
sities without  crying  out  for  a  supply.  Can  a  man  hunger, 
without  begging  for  food  ?  Can  he  thirst,  without  pleading 
for  water  ?     Neither  can  a  sinner  become  conscious  of  his 


THE  CONCEIT   OF  HOLINESS.  229 

corruption,  without  praying :  "  Create  within  me  a  clean 
heart  O  God,  and  renew  within  me  a  right  spirit."  And 
whenever  this  is  done,  it  is  absohitely  certain  that  the 
necessities  of  the  soul  will  be  supplied  from  God,  their  ap- 
propriate source  ;  that  the  supply  will  equal  the  demand. 
The  promises  of  God  are  more  explicit  and  unconditional 
in  respect  to  heavenly  blessings,  than  in  reference  to 
earthly.  We  are  permitted,  for  example,  to  pray  for  our 
earthly  bread,  for  physical  health  and  strength,  for  the 
divine  blessing  upon  our  worldly  affairs.  And  there  is  no 
doubt  that  such  requests  are  often  granted.  But  it  is  not 
so  surely  certain  that  God  will  answer  the  prayer  for  daily 
bread,  as  it  is  that  he  will  answer  the  prayer  for  the  for- 
giveness of  sin.  You  may  beg  God  to  restore  you  to 
health  from  sickness ;  to  give  you  competence  instead  of 
poverty ;  and  he  may  see  fit  not  to  grant  your  prayer. 
But  if  you  put  up  the  publican's  petition  :  "  God  be  mer- 
ciful to  me  a  sinner  ; "  if  you  entreat  with  David  :  "  De- 
liver me  from  blood-guiltiness  O  God,  thou  God  of  my 
salvation ; "  you  will  certainly  obtain  an  answer.  For  the 
forgiveness  of  sin  is  a  spiritual  blessing,  and  it  can  never 
do  you  any  injury  to  grant  it.  Your  prayer  for  health  or 
earthly  prosperity,  if  answered,  might  harm  your  soul  for 
time  and  eternity.  But  there  is  no  danger  to  your  soul  in 
pardoning  its  sins ;  and  now  that  Christ  has  made  an 
atonement  for  sin,  there  is  no  danger  to  the  Divine  govern- 
ment in  such  a  remission.  You  may  be  uncertain,  there- 
fore, whether  in  the  instance  of  a  supplication  for  tem- 
poral blessings  you  will  obtain  them  ;  and  whenever  you 
pat  up  such  a  petition,  you  must  couple  it  with  the  proviso ; 
"  If  it  seem  good  unto  thee,  O  God ;  and  if  not,  then  thy 
will  and  not  mine  be  done."  But  when  you  ask  God  to 
be  merciful  unto  you,  and  sprinkle  your  conscience  with 
the  blood  of  Christ ;  when  you  beseech  him  to  change 


230  THE  SENSE   OF  SIN. 

your  earthly  and  corrupt  nature  into  liis  own  pure  and 
holy  likeness ;  you  need  not  put  in  this  proviso.  For  God 
has  expressly  informed  you  that  it  is  always  his  will  that 
a  sinner  repent  of  his  sin,  and  seek  the  Divine  mercy  in 
the  blood  of  Christ ;  that  it  is  always  his  desire  that  the 
"  wicked  forsake  his  way  and  the  unrighteous  man  his 
thoughts ;  "  and  that  he  is  always  inclined  to  have  mercy 
upon  a  penitent  man,  and  to  abundantly  pardon  him.  Hear 
the  declaration  upon  this  point,  precisely  as  it  stands 
in  the  fifty -fifth  chapter  of  Isaiah.  "  Seek  ye  the  Lord 
while  he  may  be  found,  call  ye  upon  him  while  he  is  near. 
Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man 
his  thoughts :  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he 
will  have  mercy  upon  him ;  and  to  our  God,  for  he  will  abun- 
dantly pardon.  For  my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts, 
neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the  Lord.  For  as  the 
heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher 
than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts." 
In  all  this  cordial  invitation  and  generous  promise,  there 
are  no  limitations  specified.  Our  merciful  God  and  Sa- 
viour does  not  tell  us  that  he  will  forgive  sin,  and  sanctify 
the  sinful  &o\x{,  provided  he  sees  it  to  be  compatible  with 
the  attributes  of  his  own  nature,  with  the  administration 
of  his  government,  and  with  the  best  interests  of  the  crea- 
ture so  to  do.  All  this  is  provided  for.  The  death 
of  Christ  has  already  made  the  pardon  of  sin  compati- 
ble with  the  Divine  attributes,  and  the  Divine  govern- 
ment; and  the  pardon  of  sin  never  had  anything  in  it 
that  conflicts  with  the  best  interests  of  the  sinner.  The 
invitation  is  :  "  Come,  for  all  things  are  ready."  Having 
given  his  Son,  God  can  now  with  him  give  all  spiritual 
blessings.  The  greater  includes  the  less.  There  are  now 
no  limitations,  or  obstructions,  in  the  way  of  granting  these 
spiritual  gifts  to  any  sinner  who  wants  them  ;  and  we  may 


THE   CONCEIT   OF  HOLINESS.  231 

approach  the  throne  of  the  heavenly  grace,  and  ask  for 
them  "  without  an  if  or  an  and."  Whoever  goes  to  God 
asking,  in  the  name  of  Christ,  such  gifts  as  the  remission 
of  sin  and  the  sanctification  of  his  heart,  needs  put  in  no 
proviso.  To  bestow  such  gifts  as  these  always  promotes 
the  glory  of  God,  and  always  promotes  the  eternal  welfare 
of  the  creature.  Therefore  this  prayer  is  always  heard,  if 
it  be  presented  through  the  Mediator.  "  This  is  the  con- 
fidence that  we  have  in  him,  that  if  we  ask  anything  ac- 
cording to  his  will  [i.e.,  in  accordance  with  his  method  of 
salvation  in  Christ] ,  he  heareth  us  :  and  if  we  know  that 
he  hear  us,  whatsoever  we  ask  [i.e.,  if  we  know  that  our 
petition  belongs  to  the  class  that  is  invariably  granted] ,  we 
know  that  we  have  the  petitions  that  we  desired  of  him." 
1  John  V.  14,  15. 

Bnt  all  this  abundant  supply  supposes  a  demand.  All 
this  free  grace  postulates  a  sense  of  sin.  No  man  can  pray 
this  prayer  for  a  spiritual  blessing ;  this  prayer  which  is 
always  answered ;  this  prayer  which  is  not  hampered  by 
provisos ;  unless  he  hungers  for  mercy,  and  hungers  for 
holiness.  And  he  cannot  hunger  for  mercy  and  holiness 
unless  he  feels  his  destitution.  The  penitent  conscious- 
ness of  sin  is  always  attended  with  a  spiritual  craving ; 
and  the  spiritual  craving  always  finds  the  spiritual  supply 
in  the  gospel ;  and  thus  we  see  the  truth  of  the  first  part 
of  our  proposition,  that  a  sense  of  sin  leads  indirectly  and 
ultimately  to  holiness. 

II.  We  are  now  ready  to  show,  in  the  second  place,  that 
the  conceit  of  holiness  leads  to  sin.  And  here  we  are  met 
in  the  very  outset  with  the  fact,  that  a  conceit  is  in  its 
oton  nature  sin.  It  is  self-deception  ;  an  imaginary  opin- 
ion, founded  upon  no  real  basis.  A  conceited  man  is,  in 
so  far,  a  bad  man.  His  self-flattering  opinion  may  relate 
to  a  matter  of  minor  importance,  or  of  major  importance 


232  THE   SENSE   OF   SIN. 

— to  the  features  of  his  face,  or  the  qualities  of  his  char- 
acter— but  just  so  far  as  in  either  instance  his  judgment  is 
warped  and  false,  there  is  moral  obliquity  in  him.  There 
is  pride  ;  and  pride  in  all  its  forms  is  sin. 

A  conceit  of  holiness,  then,  is  sin  and  leads  to  more  sin. 
The  disposition  of  the  Pharisee — the  disposition  to  say, 
"  We  see  " — is  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  every  good  and 
gracious  affection  in  the  heart.  Christianity  is  eminently 
a  religion  for  the  poor  in  spirit ;  for  those  who  have  no 
self -flattering  confidence.  Conceit,  therefore,  in  all  its 
modes  and  degrees,  utterly  prevents  the  rise  and  progress 
of  holiness  within  the  soul.  But  more  than  this,  the  con- 
ceit of  holiness  exerts  a  positively  corrupting  influence  upon 
the  heart.  Its  effect  is  not  merely  negative.  It  not  only 
prevents  a  man  from  becoming  meek  and  lowly,  but  it 
puffs  him  up  with  pride,  and  fills  him  with  sin.  Let  us 
examine  this  point  somewhat  in  detail. 

Religion  is  both  a  matter  of  the  understanding,  and  of 
the  heart.  It  consists  in  a  true  knowledge  of  Divine 
things,  and  a  proper  feeling  in  view  of  them.  Spiritual 
perception  in  combination  with  spiritual  emotion  consti- 
tutes the  sum  and  substance  of  practical  holiness.  If 
either  is  lacking,  or  deficient,  the  character  is  lacking,  or 
deficient.  What  now  is  the  effect  of  a  conceit  of  holiness 
upon  a  man's  knowledge  of  God  and  himself  ?  The  apos- 
tle Paul  answers  this  question  very  flatly,  when  he  says : 
"  If  any  man  think  that  he  knoweth  anything,  he  knoweth 
nothing  yet,  as  he  ought  to  know."  Self -flattery  is  fatal 
to  all  spiritual  discernment.  In  the  first  place,  it  prevents 
a  true  knowledge  of  one's  own  heart.  The  Pharisee  who 
said  in  his  self-complacency :  "  God  I  thank  thee  that  I 
am  not  as  other  men  are,"  was  utterly  ignorant  of  his  own 
character.  He  imagined  that  he  knew  everything  in  re- 
spect to  himself,  but  he  knew  absolutely  nothing  as  he 


THE   CONCEIT   OF  HOLINESS.  233 

ought  to  have  known.  Wrapped  up  in  a  false  opinion 
and  estimate  of  his  own  righteousness,  he  was  not  only 
blind,  but  utterly  impervious  to  the  light.  And  in  the 
second  place,  self-conceit  precludes  all  true  knowledge  of 
God.  The  apostle  John  tells  us,  that  "  he  that  loveth  not 
knoweth  not  God,  for  God  is  love."  There  must  be  some 
holy  affinity  between  the  heart  of  man  and  the  Divine 
nature,  in  order  that  the  former  may  apprehend  the  latter. 
And  there  must  be  humility  also,  in  order  to  a  spiritual 
discernment.  God  repulses  a  proud  intellect.  He  will 
not  permit  it  to  enter  the  secret  penetralia  of  his  being. 
He  shuts  himself  up  from  all  haughty  scrutiny  on  the  part 
of  his  creatures ;  and  the  history  of  human  speculation  is 
the  record  of  the  baffled  attempts  of  man's  pride  of  under- 
standing to  comprehend  the  Infinite  and  Eternal.  "  To  this 
man  will  I  look,  saitli  the  Lord,  even  to  him  that  is  poor, 
and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  trembleth  at  my  word." 
Whether,  therefore,  we  have  reference  to  the  knowledge 
of  self,  or  to  the  knowledge  of  God,  we  see  that  a  conceit 
of  holiness  conducts  to  sin.  That  spiritual  discernment 
which  is  one  whole  side  and  phase  of  holiness  is  utterly 
vitiated  by  it.  So  long  as  it  exists,  a  man  can  know 
neither  himself  nor  his  Maker.  And  without  knowledge 
religion  is  impossible. 

The  other  side  of  holiness  consists  in  the  aifections  of 
the  heart.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself."  The  injurious 
influence  of  a  conceit  of  holiness  upon  the  emotions  is  even 
more  apparent  than  upon  the  perceptions.  Our  feelings 
are  shy  and  retiring,  and  hence  it  is  more  difficult  to  feel 
than  it  is  to  understand.  How  often  does  a  man  say :  "  I 
perceive  the  truth,  but  I  do  not  realize  it."  And  nothing 
is  more  deadening  to  emotion  than  pride.  In  everyday 
life,  we  observe  the  hardening  effect  of  this  vice.    Let 


234  THE   SENSE   OF   SIN. 

man  or  woman  be  carried,  bj  prosperity,  out  of  the  circles 
in  which  pure  tastes  and  moderate  desires  rule,  into  the 
circles  of  frivolous  and  ambitious  life,  and  how  rapidly  do 
the  feelings  die  out  of  the  soul.  The  ingenuous  and  beau- 
tiful emotiveness  which  marked  the  early  life  disappears, 
and  a  cold,  unemotional  self-coUectedness  takes  its  place. 
The  flush  and  bloom  of  the  soul  is  dried  up  by  the  arid 
breath  of  artificial  society ;  by  the  "  pride  of  life ; "  and 
all  that  is  substituted  in  the  place  of  it  is  a  thin,  hard  var- 
nish, or  a  still  harder  enamel.  But  bad  as  this  is  in  the 
social  sphere,  it  is  yet  worse  and  more  fatal  in  the  prov- 
ince of  religion.  If  you  would  extinguish  all  religious 
sensibility  within  yourself,  become  a  pharisee.  "  The 
leaven,"  says  our  Lord — the  characteristic  quality — "  of 
the  pharisee,  is  hypocrisy."  Not  necessarily  deliberate 
and  intentional  hypocrisy,  but  any  self-deception,  any  false 
conceit  or  opinion.  A  man  may  be  hypocritical  without 
deliberately  putting  on  the  cloak  of  false  appearances.  It 
is  not  necessary  that  he  should  take  a  trumpet,  and  go  out 
into  the  street  and  sound  the  trumpet,  and  make  a  long 
prayer.  This  is  only  the  extreme  of  the  sin.  Any  degree 
of  self-complacency,  any  degree  of  false  estimate  of  our 
own  character,  belongs  to  the  species.  So  long  as  I  do  not 
smite  upon  my  breast  and  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a 
sinner ;  "  so  long  as  I  cherish  any  grade  of  self-righteous- 
ness, any  false  conceit  of  myself ;  I  am  pharisaical.  Our 
Lord  undoubtedly  intended  to  make  but  two  general 
classes,  by  relating  that  story  of  the  publican  and  pharisee ; 
and  his  searching  eye  sees  in  every  individual  man,  either 
the  spirit  of  the  self-righteous,  or  the  spirit  of  the  self- 
condemned.  The  leaven  of  the  pharisee  is  the  leaven  of 
human  nature — the  disposition  to  think  more  highly  of 
ourselves  than  we  ought  to  think,  and  the  indisposition  to 
think  soberly,  humbly,  and  truthfully.     And  this  leaven 


THE   CONCEIT   OF   HOLINESS.  235 

of  the  pharisee  accounts  for  the  absence  of  religious  sensi- 
bility which  everywhere  meets  us.  So  long  as  this  false 
estimate  is  characteristic  of  men,  it  is  impossible  for  them 
to  feel  seriously  and  tenderly  the  claims  of  God,  and  the 
plague  of  the  heart.  Here,  too,  as  in  every  other  prov- 
ince, pride  hardens  and  deadens  the  emotions.  Here, 
too,  the  conceit  of  holiness,  the  false  self -estimate,  leads 
to  sin. 

The  practical  lesson  derivable  from  this  text,  as  thus 
unfolded,  is  a  plain  and  serious  one.  We  learn  from  it, 
the  necessity  of  obtaining  the  sense  of  sin.  Our  Lord  said 
to  the  Pharisees :  "  For  judgment  I  am  come  into  the 
world,  that  they  which  see  not  might  see,  and  that  they 
which  see  might  be  made  blind."  One  great  purpose  of 
his  mission  was  to  make  a  discrimination  of  character,  by 
the  searching  tests  which  he  should  apply.  If,  therefore, 
we  would  obtain  any  eternal  benefit  from  his  mission,  we 
must  enter  into  the  spirit  of  it,  and  work  in  accordance 
with  it.  And  the  only  mode  in  which  we  can  do  this,  is 
to  acquire  the  consciousness  of  sin.  It  is  our  first  duty,  to 
become  "  blind."  So  long  as  we  think  that  we  "  see,"  or 
say  that  we  "  see,"  we  are  out  of  all  saving  relations  to  the 
gospel,  and  cannot  become  Christians. 

It  was  the  remark  of  a  thoughtful  philosopher,  that  the 
beginning  and  foundation  of  true  science  is  a  willingness 
to  be  ignorant.  By  this  he  meant,  that  if  the  human 
mind  proudly  insists  upon  a  perfect  comprehension  of 
everything,  it  will  comprehend  nothing.  He  advocated, 
therefore,  a  moderate  and  modest  estimate  of  the  powers 
of  the  human  understanding,  an  acknowledgment  and 
recognition  of  the  mysteries  of  religion  and  of  nature,  and, 
generally,  a  reverent  and  humble  attitude  of  the  mind  to- 
ward all  truth.  But  with  how  much  more  truth  can  it  be 
said,  that  the  beginning  and  foundation  of  religion  is  a 


236  THE   SENSE  OF   SIN. 

willingness  to  be  ignorant,  and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked. 
Though,  therefore,  the  teaching  is  old  and  oft-repeated, 
let  us  urge  it  once  more  upon  you,  to  seek  a  sense  of  pov- 
erty, of  ignorance,  and  of  sin,  that  you  may  be  prepared 
for  the  riches,  the  knowledge,  and  the  holiness  of  the  gos- 
pel. The  instant  a  vacuum  is  produced,  the  atmospheric 
air  will  rush  into  it.  And  the  instant  any  human  soul  be- 
comes emptied  of  its  conceit  of  holiness,  and  of  its  self- 
righteousness  ;  the  instant  it  becomes  an  aching  void,  and 
reaches  out  after  something  purer  and  better ;  it  is  filled 
with  what  it  wants. 

The  sense  of  sin  operates  very  much  like  an  instinct  in 
the  physical  world.  An  instinct  is  an  uneasy  feeling  of 
want,  that  leads  to  some  action  or  movement.  The  young 
bird,  for  example,  that  has  never  yet  left  the  nest,  when 
its  wings  and  feathers  have  reached  the  proper  point  of 
maturity,  begins  to  be  restless.  It  wants  to  fly.  Instinct, 
that  most  mysterious  characteristic  which  the  Creator  has 
impressed  upon  the  entire  animal  world,  is  drawing  the 
little  creature  away  from  the  narrow  house  in  which  it 
was  hatched,  into  the  wide  and  boundless  firmament  of 
heaven.  And  it  will  never  be  freed  from  this  restlessness, 
until  it  actually  spreads  its  wings,  and  soars  away  never 
to  come  back.  Now,  a  sense  of  sin — a  true  and  penitent 
sense  of  sin — operates  in  the  same  manner.  It  is  a  rest- 
less and  uneasy  feeling  in  the  human  soul,  that  leads  to 
some  action  or  movement.  It  is  true  that  it  differs  from 
a  healthy  physical  instinct,  in  that  it  is  a  token  of  disease, 
and  not  of  health.  The  instinct  of  the  little  bird,  leading 
it  to  fly,  is  a  part  of  its  original  created  nature  ;  a  part  of 
that  primal  creation  which  God  pronounced  "  good ; " 
while  the  sense  of  sin  in  apostate  man  results  from  moral 
disease,  and  is  indicative  of  a  perversion  of  man's  original 
constitution.     Still  the  result  is  the  same,  in  each  instance. 


THE   CONCEIT   OF  HOLINESS.  237 

The  penitent  sense  of  sin  fills  man  with  a  dissatisfaction 
with  his  present  condition,  and  an  aspiration  after  a  better 
one.  He  becomes  weary  of  the  narrow  nest  of  time,  and 
earth,  and  sense,  and  sin.  He  longs  to  soar  out  of  it,  and 
beyond  it,  into  the  firmament  of  God. 

Can  you  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  preacher,  in  all 
ages  of  the  Church,  has  said  so  much  concerning  the  sense 
of  sin  ?  that  he  is  so  constantly  urging  upon  his  hearers, 
the  importance  and  necessity  of  becoming  conscious  of  the 
plague  of  the  heart?  He  knows  that  when  this  point 
is  reached,  the  principal  part  of  the  work,  so  far  as  his 
agency  is  concerned,  is  accomplished ;  and  that  so  long  as 
his  hearers  are  destitute  of  this  experience,  nothing  has 
been  done,  and  nothing  can  be  done,  toward  their  spir- 
itual welfare.  There  must  be  awakened  within  them  a 
spiritual  instinct,  an  internal  uneasiness,  a  restless  craving 
for  something  different,  and  something  better.  They 
must  cease  saying,  "  We  see,"  and  begin  to  confess  and 
cry  out,  "  "We  are  blind,  and  poor,  and  miserable,  and 
naked,  and  in  want  of  all  things." 

Get,  then,  a  conviction  and  sense  of  personal  unworthi- 
ness  before  God.  Dismiss  all  other  aims  and  enterprises, 
and  direct  your  thoughts,  and  efforts,  and  prayers,  to  this 
one  thing.  It  would  be  worth  the  toil  of  many  years,  if 
you  could  thereby  induce  into  your  hearts  such  a  sense  of 
sin  as  that  to  which  David  gives  utterance  in  the  fifty-first 
psalm ;  to  which  the  publican  gave  expression  when  he 
smote  upon  his  breast,  and  cried,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me 
a  sinner ; "  to  which  the  prodigal  son  gave  expression  when 
he  said,  "  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  before 
thee."  The  devotee  of  mammon  will  toil  for  years  to  ac- 
quire a  fortune ;  the  devotee  of  art  will  "  scorn  delights, 
and  live  laborious  days,"  to  become  a  great  painter,  or  a 
great  sculptor.     Each  of  these  men  can  say :  "  This  one 


238  THE   SENSE  OF   SIN. 

tiling  I  do."  Each  of  them  is  a  man  of  one  idea.  Bat 
there  is  something  more  important  than  wealth  and  art. 
The  everlasting  peace  and  pnritj  of  the  soul  is  of  infi- 
nitely greater  moment  than  any  painting  or  statue,  than 
mountains  of  gold  and  silver.  And  the  way  to  this  peace 
and  purity  is  through  the  consciousness  of  corruption.  We 
get  the  beatific  vision,  b}'^  first  becoming  "  blind."  It  is 
the  sense  of  sin  that  leads  to  holiness.  We  urge  you  to 
become  a  devotee  to  this  subject,  a  man  of  this  one  idea. 
Determine  to  know  yourself,  whether  you  know  anything 
else  or  not.  Dare  to  be  ignorant  of  many  things,  if 
thereby  you  can  acquaint  yourself  with  God  and  be  at 
peace.  Toil  for  a  knowledge  of  your  own  heart,  as  you 
would  toil  to  understand  chemistry,  if  your  aspiration 
were  to  become  a  chemist ;  to  understand  the  Greek  lan- 
guage, if  it  were  your  ambition  to  become  a  Grecian. 
With  what  cheering  emotions  would  the  people  of  God, 
and  the  angels  of  God,  view  such  an  earnestness  upon  the 
part  of  the  unregenerate.  How  hopeful  would  the  Chris- 
tian Church  become,  if  it  should  suddenly  discover  that 
men  were  betaking  themselves  to  the  study  of  their  own 
corrupt  natures,  and  were  determined  to  find  out  how  sin- 
ful they  actually  are  in  the  sight  of  God. 

As  an  encouragement  to  this  endeavor,  we  remind  you, 
in  conclusion,  that  in  it  you  may  confidently  rely  upon  the 
aid  and  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  upon  the  teaching 
and  illumination  of  the  Third  Person  in  the  Godhead. 
Should  you  propose  to  yourself  to  become  merely  a  chem- 
ist, or  a  Greek  scholar,  or  a  sculptor,  or  a  millionaire,  you 
would  not  necessarily  rely  upon  any  such  aid  or  influence. 
You  might  work  with  the  ordinary  powers  and  faculties  of 
the  human  soul,  sustained  by  the  ordinary  power  of  Di- 
vine Providence.  A  man  does  not  need  the  supernatural 
influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  order  to  become  either 


THE   CONCEIT  OF  HOLINESS.  239 

learned  or  wealthy.  And  too  generally  scholars  and  mil- 
lionaires toil  on  in  their  own  strength,  without  even  know- 
ing whether  there  be  any  Holy  Ghost. 

But  in  everything  pertaining  to  religion,  and  the  wel- 
fare of  the  soul,  we  are  entirely  dependent  upon  gracious 
influences  and  impressions.  And  in  urging  you  to  this  toil 
and  effort  to  obtain  a  humble  sense  of  personal  unworthi- 
ness  before  God,  we  say  unto  you  in  the  language  of  the 
apostle  :  "  Work,  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you."  We 
remind  you  of  the  great  and  cheering  motive  which  you 
have  to  commence  the  study  of  your  own  heart,  in  the  fact 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  is  the  Searcher  of  the  heart,  and  his 
enlightening  influences  are  promised  and  proffered.  Were 
you  to  be  isolated  from  God,  and  to  be  compelled  to  ac- 
quire this  salutary  self-knowledge  by  your  own  unaided 
scrutiny,  we  should  have  no  hope  of  your  succeeding.  The 
human  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  its  innumer- 
able devices  and  self -flatteries  would  be  too  much  for  you. 
The  very  heart  which  is  to  be  searched,  and  whose  corrup- 
tion is  to  be  discovered,  would  persuade  you  that  all  is 
well,  and  that  your  anxiety  is  needless,  or  greatly  exagger- 
ated. But  God  is  greater  than  our  heart,  and  knoweth  all 
things.  He  understands  the  devices  and  deceits  of  the 
human  soul,  and  will  conduct  every  man  safely  through 
them  who  submits  to  his  guidance. 

From  this  time  forth,  then,  scrutinize  your  personal 
character,  in  reliance  upon  the  inward  illumination  of 
the  truth  and  Spirit  of  God.  Your  first  and  indispen- 
sable work  and  duty  is,  in  our  Lord's  phrase,  to  become 
"  blind " — to  become  conscious  of  mental  darkness  and 
ignorance.  Christ  has  "  come  into  the  world,  that  they 
which  see  not  might  see,  and  that  they  which  see  might 
be  made  blind."  One  would  think  it  to  be  an  easy 
and  a  simple  matter,  to  comply  with  such  a  requisition. 


240  THE   SENSE   OF   SIN. 

"We  are  not  commanded  or  expected  to  furnish  the 
light ;  but  merely  to  become  sensible  of  our  darkness. 
God  does  not  oblige  us  to  create  the  food  by  which  our 
souls  live,  but  simply  to  hunger  after  it.  We  have  only  to 
open  our  mouths,  and  he  will  fill  them.  By  his  prophet 
he  says  :  "  Open  thy  mouth  wide,  and  I  will  fill  it.  Come, 
buy  wine  and  milk,  without  money  and  without  price." 

All  spiritual  blessings,  from  first  to  last,  are  gifts  of  God, 
without  any  equivalent  being  expected  from  us.  This 
knowlege  of  our  hearts,  of  which  we  have  been  speaking, 
is  one  of  these  gratuities.  Any  man  can  have  it  for  the 
asking.  If,  therefore,  any  man  neglects  it,  and  does  not 
come  into  possession  of  it,  it  is  because  he  dislikes  it.  He 
does  not  want  to  know  his  own  heart.  He  prefers  to  con- 
tinue in  ignorance.  And  for  a  soul  that  desires  to  remain 
in  the  ignorance  of  sin ;  that  prefers  the  darkened  under- 
standing of  the  state  of  nature,  to  the  enlightened  mind  of 
the  state  of  grace ;  there  is  no  hope.  If  there  is  no  de- 
mand, there  is  no  supply.  To  such  a  soul  must  be  ad- 
dressed those  solemn  words  of  our  Lord :  "  Light  has 
come  into  the  world ;  but  thou  lovest  darkness  rather  than 
light,  because  thy  deeds  are  evil." 


SEEMON  XVI. 

THE  IMPRESSION   MADE  BY  CHRIST'S  HOLINESS. 


Luke  V.  8. — "When   Simon  Peter  saw  it,   he  fell  down  at  Jesus' 
knees,  saying  :  Depart  from  me  ;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord." 


The  occurrence  which  called  forth  this  at  first  sight  sin- 
gular request  from  Peter,  is  one  of  the  many  interesting 
incidents  which  throw  such  a  charm  over  the  narratives 
of  the  Evangelists.  Christ  had  entered  into  the  fishing- 
boat  of  his  newly  called  disciple,  that,  free  from  the  press- 
ure of  the  people  who  thronged  to  hear  him,  he  might 
teach  them  those  truths  which  are  spirit  and  life  to  all 
who  receive  them  into  good  and  honest  hearts.  Having 
ended  his  discourse,  he  requested  Peter  to  move  his  boat 
into  deeper  water,  farther  from  the  shore,  and  to  "  let 
down  his  net  for  a  draught."  The  disciple  complied  with 
the  request,  more,  it  would  seem,  from  respect  to  his  Mas- 
ter, than  from  any  expectation  of  a  successful  result,  for 
he  says :  "  Master,  we  have  toiled  all  the  night  and  have 
taken  nothing ;  nevertheless  at  thy  word  I  will  let  down 
the  net."  But  that  word  was  the  word  of  "  Him  by  whom 
all  things  were  made,  and  without  whom  was  not  anything 
made  that  was  made."  Though  the  disciple  did  not  at 
that  moment  realize  it,  yet  God  Almighty  was  standing  be- 
side him  in  the  little  fishing-boat — that  infinite  Being  who 
possesses  a  mysterious  power  over  all  the  world  of  natural 

n 


242  THE   IMPRESSION   MADE 

as  well  as  spiritual  life.  Hence  the  miraculous  draught  of 
fishes  which  followed  the  obedience  of  Peter.  This  won- 
derful event  came  unexpectedly  upon  him.  The  certainty 
that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  higher  Being  than  man, 
then  flashed  upon  him.  "With  this  knowledge,  a  sense  of 
his  own  sinfulness  arose  within  him,  and  the  spontaneous 
utterance  of  his  heart  was :  "  Depart  from  me,  O  Lord,  for 
I  am  a  sinful  man." 

This  is  the  natural  effect  of  all  immediate  and  startling 
manifestations  of  the  Deity  to  fallen  man.  The  flash  of 
lightning  produces  a  twinge  of  conscience ;  the  roll  of 
thunder  makes  the  guilty  tremble.'  Should  God  instan- 
taneously rend  the  heavens  and  come  down,  as  he  will  in 
the  day  of  doom,  every  eye  would  see  him,  and  every 
soul  would  be  conscious  of  sin.  When  the  same  dread 
Being,  by  a  series  of  searching  and  significant  questions 
respecting  the  wonderful  movements  and  processes  in  the 
world  of  nature,  had  brought  into  clear  light  his  own  great- 
ness and  majesty.  Job,  the  sinful  man,  answered  the  Lord 
and  said  :  "  Behold,  I  am  vile ;  what  shall  I  answer  Thee  ? 
I  will  lay  my  hand  upon  my  mouth."  Those  questions 
which  God  put  out  of  the  whirlwind  :  "  Where  wast  thou 
when  I  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth  ?  Hast  thou 
commanded  the  day-spring  to  know  its  place  ?  Hast  thou 
entered  into  the  springs  of  the  sea,  or  hast  thou  walked  in 
the  search  of  the  depth  ?  Doth  the  hawk  fly  by  thy  wis- 
dom, and  stretch  her  wings  towards  the  south  ?  Doth  the 
eagle  mount  up  at  thy  command,  and  make  her  nest  on 
high  ?  " — these  significant  questions  were,  for  the  patriarch, 
what  this  miraculous  draught  of  fishes  was  for  the  apostle. 
And  hence  the  like  result  in  each  instance — an  abasing 
sense  of  sin  in  the  more  immediate  presence  of  God.  In 
that  hour  when  the  fingers  of  a  man's  hand  came  forth 

'  Compare  Horace,  Odes,  I.  xxxiv. 


BY  cheist's  holiness.  243 

and  wrote  incandescent  letters  upon  the  wall  of  the  palace, 
the  countenance  of  Belshazzar,  the  guilty  Babylonian 
monarch,  was  changed,  and  his  thoughts  troubled  him,  so 
that  the  joints  of  his  loins  were  loosed,  and  his  knees  smote 
one  against  another.  (Dan.  v.  6.)  "When  Daniel,  the  man 
greatly  beloved  of  God,  yet  not  freed  from  the  taint  of 
mortal  corruption,  saw  the  vision  of  the  contending  em- 
pires, and  heard  the  explanatory  words  of  the  archangel 
Gabriel,  "  he  fainted  and  was  sick  certain  days."  And 
when  he  afterwards  saw,  upon  the  banks  of  Hiddekel,  One 
clothed  in  linen,  whose  loins  were  girded  with  fine  gold  of 
Uphaz,  his  body  like  the  beryl,  his  face  as  the  appearance 
of  lightning,  his  eyes  as  lamps  of  fire,  his  arms  and  his 
feet  like  in  color  to  polished  brass,  and  the  voice  of  his 
words  like  the  voice  of  a  multitude,  "  there  remained  no 
strength  in  him :  for  his  comeliness  was  turned  into  cor- 
ruption, and  he  retained  no  strength."  (Dan.  viii.  27 ;  x.  8.) 
There  are  various  modes  in  which  the  Divine  character 
is  brought  vividly  before  the  mind,  and  thus  the  feeling  of 
sinfulness  educed.  There  are  many  objects  which  are  the 
occasion  of  directing  attention  to  the  holiness  and  immac- 
ulateness  of  God,  and  thus,  by  contrast,  of  disclosing  the 
imperfection  and  pollution  of  man.  Material  nature  is 
full  of  symbols,  which  are  a  kind  of  language  by  which 
the  soul  is  told  of  spiritual  truths.  "  The  heavens  declare 
the  glory  of  God."  The  clear  cerulean  sky  speaks  of  God's 
purity  to  the  soul  that  desires  and  strives  to  be  pure,  and 
sorrowfully  feels  its  corruption.  The  crimson  of  the  clouds 
that  gather  round  the  rising  sun  reminded  the  guilt-smit- 
ten and  lowly  Cowper,  of  the  blood  which  cleanses  and 
atones : 

"  Light  appears  with  early  dawn 

While  the  sun  makes  haste  to  rise  ; 
See  His  bleeding  beauties  drawn 
On  the  blushes  of  the  skies. " 


244  THE  IMPRESSION  MADE 

But  while  the  manifestation  of  God  in  the  works  of  his 
hands  has  power  to  display  the  Divine  excellence,  and  by 
contrast,  human  corruption,  the  manifestation  of  God  in 
the  flesh,  the  incai'nation  of  the  Deity,  has  a  far  greater 
power.  Many  a  man  has  had  fleeting  emotions  called  up 
by  the  former  that  have  produced  no  abiding  effect.' 
'  Many  a  man,  amidst  the  glorious  or  terrible  scenes  of  the 
material  world,  has  had  transient  feelings  of  awe,  and  per- 
haps an  evanescent  sense  of  ill-desert.  But  these  influ- 
ences from  nature,  though  when  made  effective  by  higher 
ones  they  may  form  a  part  of  the  current  which  bears  the 
spirit  back  to  God,  are  not  the  primary  and  most  effica- 
cious influences.  It  is  the  view  of  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh,  alone,  which  produces  a  salutary  sense  of  sinfulness. 
Christ  assures  his  disciples  in  his  farewell  discourse  to 
them,  that  he  will  send  them  the  Holy  Ghost  who  will 
glorify  Him  ;  for  he  should  receive  of  His,  and  should 
show  Him  unto  them.  (John  xvi.  14.)  The  Divine  Spirit, 
in  this  promise,  is  represented  as  tributary  to  Jesus  Christ. 
Through  this  heavenly  teaching,  they  should  obtain  a  view 
of  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Son  of  man  that  would  be  as 
palpable  for  the  mind  and  heart,  as  his  bodily  form  had 
been  for  their  senses.  This  knowledge  of  Christ's  person 
and  work  is  impossible  to  the  natural  man.  "  The  world," 
that  is,  the  worldly  mind,  says  Christ,  "  cannot  see  me,  nor 
know  me ;  but  ye  see  me,  for  I  am  in  you,  and  will  be 

'  Whether  nature  teaches  any  religious  truth,  depends  altogether 
upon  the  moral  condition  of  the  pupil.  Justus  Moser,  in  his  "Letter 
to  the  Savoyard  Vicar,"  in  which  he  refutes  Rousseau's  theory  that  nat- 
ural religion,  or  the  religious  sentiment,  is  sufficient  for  mankind,  and 
that  there  is  no  need  of  doctrines  and  creeds,  remarks  that  "the 
preaching  of  the  works  of  God  which  we  have  daily  before  our  eyes  is 
like  the  chattering  song  of  a  canary  bird,  which  the  owner  at  length 
ceases  entirely  to  hear  or  notice,  while  every  one  who  comes  into  the 
room  is  deafened  by  it." — Hagenbach :  Vorlesuugen,  I.  217. 


BY  Christ's  holiness.  245 

with  yoTi."  (John  xiv.  17-19.)  Let  us,  then,  turn  onr  re- 
flections to  some  features  in  this  portraiture  of  the  Re- 
deemer bj  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  are  fitted  to  cause  the 
imperfectly  sanctified  Christian  to  cry  out  with  the  apos- 
tle Peter :  "  Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O 
Lord." 

I.  In  the  first  place,  a  view  of  the  character  of  Jesus 
Christ  awakens  the  feeling  of  sinfulness.  It  is  absolutely 
perfect.  Sanctity  both  in  mind  and  heart  is  found  at  its 
height  in  it.  Even  he  who  has  contemplated  it  long,  and 
carefully,  feels  that  but  little  of  its  fulness  and  richness 
has  been  seen.  For  Christ  is  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
glory,  and  the  exact  image  of  his  person ;  and  therefore 
cannot  be  found  out  to  perfection.  The  character  of  Jesus 
is  fathomless  ;  and  what  has  been  remarked  of  Christianity 
by  one  of  the  early  Roman  bishops,  may  with  equal  truth 
be  said  of  the  character  of  its  Author :  "  It  is  like  the 
firmament;  the  more  diligently  you  search  it,  the  more 
stars  will  you  discover.  It  is  like  the  ocean  ;  the  longer 
you  regard  it,  the  more  immeasurable  will  it  appear  to 
you."  When  the  characteristic  qualities  of  Christ  are 
distinctly  beheld  in  their  holy  and  spotless  beauty  by  a 
sinful  man,  the  contrast  is  felt  immediately.  The  instant 
that  his  eye  rests  upon  the  sinlessness  of  Jesus,  it  turns 
involuntarily  to  the  sinfulness  of  himself.  He  realizes  that 
he  is  a  different  man  from  "  the  man  Christ  Jesus ; "  and 
that  except  so  far  as  he  is  changed  by  Divine  grace,  there 
can  be  no  sympathy  and  union  with  him.  In  this  clear 
light,  he  is  conscious  that  his  is  a  defiled  and  polluted  na- 
ture, and  that  it  is  not  fit  to  come  in  contact  with  the  purity 
of  the  Son  of  God.  His  own  forebodings  and  fears  of  judg- 
ment have  nothing  in  common  with  the  innocence  and 
serenity  of  Jesus.  He  feels  that  he  is  not  worthy  of  com- 
panionship with  so  spotless  a  Being,  or  to  enter  that  pure 


246  THE  IMPRESSION  MADE 

world  where  Christ  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Hoi  j 
Father,  and  where  all  the  spirits  that  surround  him  are 
immaculate.  Though  he  knows  that  unless  he  is  ulti- 
mately a  constant  companion  of  the  Redeemer,  he  must 
be  shut  out  from  him,  and  be  "  filthy  still,"  yet  the  sense 
of  unworthiness  thus  awakened  by  contrasting  himself 
with  the  Saviour  prompts  him  instinctively  to  say  :  "  De- 
part from  me,  O  Lord,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man."  Seeing 
no  spot  or  wrinkle  upon  the  soul  of  Christ,  and  comparing 
his  own  spotted  and  wrinkled  soul  with  it,  a  sense  of 
amazement  rises  within  him  that  he  should  become  the 
temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  that  his  unclean  spirit 
should  be  selected  by  the  Eternal  Father  and  the  Eternal 
Son  to  make  their  abode  in. 

This  is  a  proper  and  blessed  mood  for  an  imperfectly 
sanctified  Christian.  It  corresponds  with  the  facts  of  the 
case.  When  he  obtains  this  clear  view  of  Christ's  per- 
fections, he  becomes  truly  meek — the  most  difficult  of  the 
graces — and  is  filled  with  that  penitential  lowliness  of 
heart  which  keeps  him  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  How  can 
pride,  the  essence  of  sin,  dwell  in  such  a  spirit  ?  It  is  ex- 
cluded. For  the  believer  is  absorbed  in  this  view  of  his 
immaculate  Redeemer,  which  shames  him,  yet  rouses  him 
to  action  and  imitation.  He  has  "the  ornament  of  a 
meek  and  quiet  spirit,"  because  the  holy  eye  of  the  Master 
is  upon  him,  and  he  knows  himself  to  be  an  unworthy  dis- 
ciple— yet  a  disciple,  and  not  an  enemy  of  the  Lord. 

II.  Intimately  connected,  in  the  second  place,  with  a 
view  of  Christ's  character,  is  that  of  Christ's  daily  life. 
When  this  with  its  train  of  holy  actions  passes  before  the 
mind  of  the  believer,  it  produces  a  deep  sense  of  indwell- 
ing sin.  For  the  every-day  life  is  the  unfolding  and  accent 
of  the  character  ;  and  the  same  elements  of  power  that  are 
found  in  the  one  appear  yet  more  clearly  in  the  other. 


BY  Christ's  holiness.  247 

That  celestial  spotlessness  in  the  inmost  nature  and  dis- 
position of  Christ,  which  awakens  the  consciousness  of  sin, 
when  reappearing  in  the  daily  conduct  of  Christ  produces 
the  same  effect.  Or  rather  its  effective  power  is  enhanced, 
inasmuch  as  it  comes  into  our  notice  active  and  working 
amidst  the  ordinary  relations  and  circumstances  of  human 
life.  It  was  only  an  internal  principle  before  ;  it  is  now 
an  external  product,  bright  and  beaming  with  energy,  and 
displaying  itself  in  the  very  midst  of  men  and  things. 
The  dark  root  has  become  a  brilliant  flower.  Every  ob- 
server knows  the  additional  force  which  a  moral  principle, 
or  attribute,  acquires  as  soon  as  it  takes  up  its  residence 
in  a  man,  and  is  shown  out  in  a  man's  conduct.  What 
wonderful  energy,  for  example,  did  the  abstract  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith  gain  to  itself,  when  it  became  in- 
carnate in  Martin  Luther  ;  incorporated  into  the  substan- 
tial mass  of  his  feelings  and  moral  wants.  The  moment 
that  it  ceased  to  be  a  mere  letter  upon  the  page  of  Scrip- 
ture, where  it  had  been  through  all  the  papal  centuries, 
and  became  a  vivid  principle  of  belief  and  action  in  the 
heart  of  the  reformer,  that  moment  it  acquired  a  power 
under  God  to  make  the  falling  Church  stand  up  in  the 
pristine  vigor  of  its  youth.  It  became  a  possessing  spirit, 
as  it  were,  dwelling  in  Luther's  mighty  and  passionate 
nature,  and  sending  though  his  instrumentality  a  reforming 
influence  through  the  Church,  and  through  the  world.  Or, 
to  take  another  instance,  let  the  principle  of  avarice,  the 
abstract  vice,  twine  itself  into  the  moral  nature  of  a  man, 
and  become  a  concrete  working  force  within  him,  and  how 
it  turns  all  that  he  touches  into  gold  ;  how  it  transforms 
the  very  man  himself,  so  that  it  issues  from  him  like  black 
rays,  and  throws  an  air  of  miserliness  and  hard-hearted- 
ness  over  him  in  all  the  relations  of  life. 

Kow,  the  attribute  of  Divine  holiness  appears  in  this 


248  THE  IMPEESSION  MADE 

vivid  biographical  way,  in  the  daily  conduct  of  Christ. 
Our  Saviour  was  God  with  all  his  attributes  manifested 
in  the  flesh — a  perfect  and  blameless  man,  therefore,  in 
all  the  varied  relations  of  human  life ;  knowing  both  the 
weakness  and  the  strength  of  humanity,  yet  in  all  cases 
without  sin.  And  what  a  holy  phenomenon  is  his  life  in 
the  flesh  !  The  human  nature  Avhich  he  assumed  is  trans- 
figured and  glorified  by  this  indwelling  of  Divinity,  and 
becomes  its  white  and  glistening  raiment. 

If,  now,  we  obtain  a  clear  view  of  Christ's  daily  life,  and 
let  our  own  worthless  life  be  seen  in  its  light,  we  shall  feel 
deeply  that  we  are  fallen  creatures.  When  we  witness  his 
constant  holiness  and  love,  appearing  wherever  he  appears, 
be  it  before  a  friend  or  an  enemy ;  *  when  we  never  for  an 
instant  see  the  placid  surface  of  his  soul  ruffled  by  passion, 
but  always  find  spiritual  objects  mirrored  in  quiet  beauty 
there  ;  when  we  notice  the  absolute  control  which  he  pos- 
sessed over  all  the  energies  and  impulses  of  his  spirit ; 
how  even  his  most  fleeting  thoughts  were  all  pure,  and 
even  his  most  evanescent  feelings  were  suffused  with  the 
righteous  and  holy  love  which  was  his  nature — when  we 
behold  all  this  exhibited  in  a  life  among  wicked  men,  and 
virulent  enemies,  and  amidst  strong  temptations,  are  we 
not  painfully  reminded  of  our  passionate,  impetuous,  un- 
govemed,  and  sinful  life  ?  If  we  would  but  study  with 
humble  earnestness  the  biography  of  Christ,  as  detailed 
in  the  Gospels,  we  could  not  fail  of  becoming  convinced 
of  sin  ;  and  as  in  this  way  we  carried  ourselves  back  to  the 
time  when  he  was  upon  earth,  and  placed  ourselves  within 
the  circle  of  his  influence  along  with  his  first  disciples,  we 
should,  through  grace   helping  us,  acquire  that  constant 

'  It  is  a  tradition  of  the  Church,  that  "Peter  wept  whenever  he  re- 
membered the  sweet  mildness  of  Christ  which  he  showed  in  his  daily 
conyersation." — Luther  on  Galatians  v.  21. 


BY  cheist's  holiness.  249 

sense  of  unworthiness,  in  comparison  with  Him,  which 
runs  through  their  narratives.  His  whole  pure  life  would 
disclose  our  corruption  ;  and  we  should  receive  a  healthful 
influence  from  many  a  slight  incident  in  the  Gospel  narra- 
tives which  now  escapes  oiu*  careless  eye,  even  as  a  healing 
virtue  was  once  experienced  by  touching  the  mere  hem  of 
his  garment. 

In  what  has  thus  far  been  said,  it  has  been  assumed  that 
there  is  remaining  sin  even  in  the  most  spiritual  and  ex- 
cellent of  Christ's  disciples,  and  that  if  fitting  objects  are 
presented,  the  feeling  of  unworthiness  will  rise  up  as  natur- 
ally as  the  power  of  a  magnet  will  exhibit  itself  when  its 
appropriate  eliciting  object  is  brought  near  it.  But  the 
consciousness  of  sin  takes  on  two  forms,  which  may  be 
distinguished  but  not  divided  from  each  other.  Only  one 
form — that  of  a  sense  of  corruption,  and  of  unconformity 
with  the  law  of  God — has  been  principally  in  view,  in 
what  has  thus  far  been  said  respecting  the  character  and 
life  of  Christ,  The  other  form  which  the  consciousness 
of  sin  assumes,  is  that  of  a  sense  of  guilt,  and  of  merited 
exposure  to  punishment.  The  feeling  which  prompts  a 
transgressor  to  say :  "  I  have  disobeyed  the  law  of  God, 
and  deserve  to  suffer  for  it,"  is  plainly  distinct  from  the 
feeling  which  leads  him  to  say :  "  I  am  carnal  and  corrupt 
in  my  propensities,  and  desire  to  be  made  pure  and  spirit- 
ual." The  reference  in  the  first  instance  is  an  external 
and  objective  one — namely,  to  the  majesty  of  God,  and  the 
claims  of  his  law.  In  the  last  instance,  the  reference  is  an 
internal  and  subjective  one — namely,  to  the  condition  and 
wants  of  the  human  heart.  The  feeling  of  guilt  goes  away 
from  self,  and  terminates  upon  another  Being,  even  God, 
the  Holy,  and  the  Just.  It  is,  therefore,  less  liable  to  be 
mingled  with  selfish  elements  than  is  the  feeling  of  inward 
corruption.  This  latter  is  blended  with  a  sense  of  personal 
11* 


250  THE   IMPRESSION   MADE 

unrest  and  nnhappiness,  and  hence  needs  to  be  watched 
lest  it  degenerate  into  a  refined  selfishness.  The  two 
feelings  are  clearly  distinguishable,  although  they  exist 
side  by  side  in  the  soul ;  and  both  are  equally  necessary  in 
order  to  a  complete  evangelical  experience.  The  conscious- 
ness of  culpability,  or  of  crivne,  is  one  of  the  most  radical 
and  profound  phases  of  human  consciousness  ;  and  it  can 
be  removed  only  by  the  most  strange  and  wonderful  of 
agencies.  It  is  easier  to  provide  for  man's  corruption,  than 
for  man's  guilt.  The  Holy  Ghost,  by  a  sanctifying  agency, 
can  remove  the  soul's  pollution ;  but  only  the  substituted 
passion  and  agony  of  incarnate  Deity  can  remove  the  soul's 
guilt.  Spiritual  influences  can  purify,  but  they  cannot  ex- 
piate. Had  there  not  been  this  crimson  tincture  of  crim- 
inality in  human  depravity,  the  incarnation  and  passion  of 
the  Second  Person  in  the  Godliead  would  not  have  been 
necessary.  Had  there  been  no  guilt  to  atone  for,  the  Tri- 
une God  could  have  sat  in  the  heavens,  and  by  an  inward 
influence  have  turned  the  human  heart  to  righteousness, 
even  as  the  rivers  of  water  are  turned. 

It  is  this  guilt-consciousness  which  gives  itself  vent  in 
the  sacrifices  of  Heathenism,  as  well  as  those  of  Judaism. 
It  is  this  emotion,  working,  it  is  true,  in  an  obscure,  yet 
in  a  powerful  manner,  and  filling  him  with  that  anxious 
foreboding  of  a  coming  retribution  of  which  St.  Paul 
speaks,  that  causes  the  pagan  to  yearn  after  a  sacrifice  of 
"  richer  blood  "  than  that  of  bulls  and  goats,  and  makes 
the  blood  of  Christ  so  grateful  to  his  anguished  spirit, 
when  the  missionary  says  :  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God — 
behold  the  real  and  true  atonement  for  sin."  Much  as 
man  fears  punishment,  his  moral  nature  is  so  constituted 
that  it  demands  it,  in  order  to  its  own  satisfaction.  Man's 
heart  hates  the  penalty  of  sin ;  but  man's  conscience  in- 
sists upon  it.     And  it  opens  to  us  a  very  solemn  view  of 


BY  cheist's  holiness.  251 

the  final  state  of  a  lost  soul,  when  we  consider  that  that 
very  judicial  infliction  which  is  the  cause  of  its  distress,  is 
felt  by  itself  to  be  just  and  necessary  under  the  govern- 
ment of  God.  So  deeply  has  the  Creator  implanted  the 
judicial  principle  in  man,  that  wherever  he  may  be,  it  de- 
mands, by  an  instinctive  action  that  is  altogether  indepen- 
dent of  the  wishes  of  the  heart,  that  law  and  justice  take 
their  course,  even  if  he  be  miserable  to  all  eternity.  And 
it  is  to  provide  for  this  dispassionate  and  impartial  sense 
of  ill-desert,  which  is  so  distinct  from  the  sense  of  corrup- 
tion and  misery,  that  Christ's  atoning  death  on  the  cross 
is  so  distinct  from  the  Holy  Spirit's  work  within  the  heart. 
One  thing  is  set  over  against  another,  in  the  plan  of  Re- 
demption. Christ's  blood  expiates  my  guilt.  Christ's 
Spirit  purifies  my  corruption. 

This  sense  of  sin  as  related  to  justice  should  hold  a 
prominent  place  in  the  Christian  experience  ;  and  in  pro- 
portion as  it  is  first  vividly  elicited  by  the  operation  of  the 
law,  and  then  is  completely  pacified  by  a  view  of  Christ  as 
suffering  "  the  just  for  the  unjust,"  will  be  the  depth  of 
our  love  towards  him,  and  the  simplicity  and  entireness  of 
our  trust  in  him.  Those  who,  like  Paul  and  Luther,  have 
had  the  clearest  perception  of  the  iniquity  of  sin,  and  of 
their  own  criminality  before  God,  have  had  the  most  lu- 
minous and  constraining  view  of  Christ  as  the  "  Lamb  of 
God ; "  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  life  of  Christ  in  the 
soul,  the  process  of  sanctification,  has  reached  its  highest 
degree,  and  matured  the  fruits  of  holiness  in  their  richest 
bloom.  The  experience  was  not  one-sided,  and  thus  neither 
side  suffered. 

HI.  Having  thus  directed  attention  to  the  fact  that  there 
is  such  a  distinct  feeling  as  guilt,  we  remark,  in  the  third 
place,  that  the  contemplation  of  the  suffe7'ings  and  death 
of  Christ  both  elicits  and  pacifies  it,  in  the  believer,    Christ's 


252  THE   IMPRESSIOTiT   MADE 

whole  life  upon  earth  was  a  continuous  state  of  humilia- 
tion and  suffering,  but  his  last  anguish  and  death  are  rep- 
resented as  eminently  the  atoning  sacrifice  for  the  sin  of 
the  world  ;  inasmuch  as  at  this  point  the  flood  of  his  sor- 
rows reached  its  height,  and  gathered  and  settled  upon 
Calvary,  like  a  tarn  of  deep  and  black  water  in  a  volcanic 
crater.  Hence  a  clear  view  of  those  scenes  in  the  Garden, 
and  on  the  Cross,  will  arrest  the  believer's  attention,  and 
fix  his  thoughts  upon  that  particular  quality  in  himself, 
that  specific  element  in  sin,  which  rendered  the  agony  and 
death  of  such  a  Being  necessary.  As  he  becomes  a  wit- 
ness of  that  mysterious  distress  under  the  olive  trees — that 
inward  shrinking  of  One  who  never  shrank  before,  and 
who  never  shrank  afterwards — which  wrung  from  him  the 
earnest  yet  submissive  prayer  :  "  O  my  Father,  if  it  be 
possible  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  ; "  as  he  follows  him 
through  his  trial  of  mockings  and  scourgings,  and  sees  the 
consummation  of  his  Passion  upon  the  cross,  and  hears  the 
words :  "  My  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  betoken- 
ing greater  anguish  in  the  soul  than  the  body  was  under- 
going— as  the  believer  obtains  a  clear  understanding  of  all 
these  events,  he  is  instinctively  prompted  by  the  feeling 
of  personal  ill-desert  which  now  rises  within  him,  to  say  : 
"  The  punishment  which  I  deserve  was  assumed  by  that 
innocent  God-man.  He,  then  and  there,  was  wounded  for 
my  transgression,  was  bruised  for  my  iniquity."  He  sees 
in  the  death  of  Christ  a  manifestation  of  God's  righteous 
displeasure  against  sin,  and  says  to  himself  :  "  If  it  was 
not  possible  to  let  that  cup  pass,  and  if  Eternal  Justice 
could  throw  no  lenitive  into  the  bitter  potion  which  the 
sinner's  Substitute  voluntarily  put  to  his  own  lips,  does 
not  the  real  criminal  himself  deserve  to  'drink  of  the  wine 
of  the  wrath  of  God,  which  is  poured  out  without  mixture 
into  the  cup  of  his  indignation?'"     Absorbed  in  the  con- 


BY  cheist's  holiness.  253 

templation  of  this  great  Divine  sacrifice  for  the  sin  of  the 
world,  the  feeling  that  retribution  is  what  a  sinner  deserves 
swallows  np  for  the  time  all  others ;  and  the  believer 
stands  before  the  bar  of  justice  taking  sides  with  the  law 
against  himself,  and  heartily  confessing  that  his  condem- 
nation is  righteous.  Whoever  beholds  human  trans- 
gression in  the  light  of  the  Cross,  has  no  doubts  as  to  the 
nature  and  character  of  the  Being  nailed  to  it ;  and  he  has 
no  doubts  as  to  his  own  nature  and  character.  The  dis- 
tinct and  intelligent  feeling  of  culpability  forbids  that  he 
should  omit  to  look  at  sin  iij  its  penal  relations,  and  en- 
ables him  to  understand  these  relations.  The  vicarious 
atonement  of  Christ  is  well  comprehended  because  it  is  pre- 
cisely what  the  guilt-smitten  conscience  craves,  in  its  rest- 
lessness and  anguish.  The  believer  now  has  wants  which 
are  met  in  this  sacrifice.  His  moral  feelings  are  all  awake, 
and  the  fundamental  feeling  of  guilt  pervades  and  tinges 
them  all ;  until,  in  genuine  contrition,  he  holds  up  the  Lamb 
of  God  in  his  prayer  for  mercy,  and  cries  out  to  the  Just 
One :  "  This  oblation  which  Thou  Thyself  hast  provided  is 
my  propitiation ;  this  atones  for  my  sin."  Then  the  expiat- 
ing blood  is  applied  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the  conscience 
is  filled  with  the  peace  of  God  that  passeth  all  understand- 
ing. "Then,"  to  use  the  language  of  Leighton,'  "the 
conscience  makes  answer  to  God  :  '  Lord,  I  have  found 
that  there  is  no  standing  in  the  judgment  before  thee,  for 
the  soul  in  itself  is  overwhelmed  with  a  world  of  guilti- 
ness ;  but  I  find  a  blood  sprinkled  upon  it  that  hath,  I  am 
sure,  virtue  enough  to  purge  it  all  away,  and  to  present  it 
pure  unto  thee.  And  I  know  that  wheresoever  thou  find- 
est  that  blood  sprinkled,  thine  anger  is  quenched  and 
appeased  immediately  upon  the  sight  of  it.  Thine  hand 
cannot  smite  when  that  blood  is  before  thine  eye.' " 

'  Commentary  on  1  Peter  iii.  21. 


254  THE  IMPRESSION   MADE 

We  have  thus  considered  the  effect,  in  awakening  a 
sense  of  sin,  produced  by  a  clear  view  of  the  character, 
life,  and  death  of  Christ,  But  how  dim  and  indistinct  is 
our  vision  of  all  this  !  It  should  be  one  of  our  most  dis- 
tinct and  earnest  aims,  to  set  a  crucified  Redeemer  visibly 
before  our  eyes.  "  I  determined,"  said  St.  Paul,  "  to  know 
nothing  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  cruci- 
fied." There  are  other  aspects  of  the  God-man  which  we 
may  contemplate  in  their  own  time  and  place ;  but  he  is 
not  upon  a  high  and  firm  evangelic  position,  who  finds  it 
difiicult  to  account  for  the  deaiA  of  the  God-man ;  who 
detects  in  himself  the  secret  query  whether  there  really  is 
anything  in  the  nature  of  sin,  and  the  character  of  God, 
that  renders  it  rational  and  necessary.  For,  such  doubt 
and  querying  originate  in  a  defective  knowledge  of  sin. 
Only  bring  out  into  vividness  the  consciousness  of  guilt ; 
only  fill  the  soul  with  a  sense  of  utter  ill-desert,  and  there 
will  be  the  uplifting  of  the  despairing  eye  to  that  central 
Cross,  and  the  simple  looking  will  be  the  explanation  of 
the  mystery,  as  it  stills  the  throbbing  conscience.  This 
accounts  for  the  immediateness  with  which  Christ  on  the 
Cross  is  beheld,  if  beheld  at  all ;  and  the  reason  why  he 
cannot  be  seen  by  indirection,  and  roundabout.  Like  a 
flash  of  light ;  like  an  explosion  of  sound  ;  the  peace  of 
God  takes  the  place  of  remorse,  when  guilt  and  atonement 
come  together  in  the  personal  experience. 

It  is  our  duty,  and  our  wisdom,  to  cultivate  a  purer  and 
more  spiritual  conviction  of  sin,  that  we  may  feel  that 
spiritual  hunger,  and  that  spiritual  thirst,  which  makes 
Christ's  atonement  vital  to  the  soul.  His  own  words 
are :  "  Except  ye  eat  my  flesh  and  drink  my  blood,  ye  have 
no  life  in  you."  But  how  can  the  full-fed  and  self -satiated 
be  famine-struck  ?  How  can  the  self-indulgent  and  lux- 
urious know  anything  of  burning  thirst  ?     How  can  torpid 


BY  Christ's  holiness.  255 

sin  feel  guilt  ?  We  need  to  experience  the  keen  incisive 
force  of  God's  truth,  and  God's  law,  cutting  into  our  proud 
flesh,  and  by  its  probing  preparing  us  for  the  balsam  and 
the  balm. 

Let  us,  then,  lift  up  our  hearts,  and  seek  this  preparation 
for  the  sprinkling  of  the  blood  of  expiation.  Let  us  by 
every  means  in  our  power — by  prayer,  by  self-examina- 
tion, and  by  absorbing  meditation  upon  Christ's  character, 
daily  life,  and  last  sufferings — awaken  a  pure  and  poig- 
nant sense  of  unworthiness  and  ill-desert,  so  that  when 
we  give  utterance  to  it  in  the  words  of  Peter :  "  Depart 
from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord,"  the  Lord  him- 
self shall  say  to  us  :  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  are  for- 
given thee." 


SERMON  XYII. 

CHRISTIAN    HUMILITY. 
1  Peter  v.  5. — "  Be  clothed  TPith  humilitj." 


Humility  is  a  grace  that  pertains  exclusively  to  the 
Christian  religion.  The  better  codes  of  pagan  morality 
recommend  some  of  the  virtues  of  our  religion — such  as 
benevolence,  justice,  truthfulness,  and  the  like — but  this 
quality  of  meekness,  which  is  so  prominent  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  with  which  we  are  commanded  to  be  "  clothed  " 
as  with  a  garment,  escaped  the  notice  of  the  heathen 
sages.  They  do  not  appear  to  have  distinguished  be- 
tween a  reverential  and  proper  prostration  of  soul,  and  a 
cringing,  cowardly  meanness  of  temper.  Hence  the  Greek 
word  {Ta7r€t,vo(f)po(Tvv'r))  employed  by  the  Kew  Testament 
writers  to  denote  this  grace,  which  is  one  of  the  fairest 
fruits  and  distinctive  marks  of  the  religion  of  the  gospel, 
in  its  original  classical  meaning  signified  a  servile  pusilla- 
nimity. The  man  who  possessed  this  quality,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  proud  Greek,  was  a  man  of  small  soul.*  So 
that  in  this  instance,  as  in  many  others,  a  single  word,  by 
being  brought  into  the  service  of  Christian  doctrine,  and 

'  Trench  (Synonyms  of  the  New  Testament)  shows,  however,  that 
Plato,  and  particularly  Aristotle,  sometimes  approached  the  borders  of 
the  truth  in  respect  to  this  moral  trait. 


CHEISTIAN  HUMILITY.  257 

employed  as  the  vehicle  of  Christian  truth,  is  thereby  en- 
nobled, and  becomes  the  exponent  of  a  higher  and  better 
idea ;  a  specimen  of  what  Christianity  does  for  everything 
that  comes  to  be  in  any  way  connected  with  it.  Man, 
when  he  has  become  a  Christian,  is  a  higher  style  of  man 
than  he  was  before.  JSTature,  when  viewed  by  a  Christian 
eye,  and  mused  upon  with  a  Christian  contemplation,  is 
transfigured,  and  sounds  forth  a  deeper  music,  and  shows 
a  richer  bloom  than  meet  the  ear  and  eye  of  the  world- 
ling. So  true  is  it,  that  "godliness  is  profitable  for  all 
things." 

In  looking  for  a  moment  into  the  nature  of  humility,  we 
discover,  as  has  been  remarked,  that  it  does  not  involve 
meanness  or  servility.  It  is  not  pusillanimity.  It  con- 
tains no  element  that  degrades  human  nature,  or  exposes  it 
to  legitimate  contempt.  It  is  not  the  quality  of  a  slave, 
but  of  kings  and  priests  unto  God.  It  is  a  necessary  trait 
in  all  finite  character,  and  therefore  it  is  perfectly  consis- 
tent with  an  inviolable  dignity  and  self-respect.  Look  at 
it  as  it  appears  in  living  beauty  in  the  pattern-man,  the 
model  of  humanity — in  Him  who  was  "meek  and  lowly 
of  heart."  Christ  was  the  ideal  of  man.  Our  nature 
reached  its  acme  of  perfection  in  him.  But  throughout 
his  entire  human  life  upon  earth,  he  was  a  lowly  and  con- 
descending being.  Not  a  scintilla  of  pride  or  arrogance 
ever  flashed  in  his  actions.  The  sweetest  and  most  gentle 
meekness  pervades  the  whole  appearance  which  he  presents 
in  the  Gospels.  It  casts  its  silver,  softening  light  over  all 
his  life  ;  it  is  the  serene  element  in  which  he  lived,  moved, 
and  had  his  being.  And  yet,  how  dignified  was  the  Son 
of  man.  The  potentates  of  the  world  are  fond  of  arrogat- 
ing to  themselves  the  title  of  "  serene  highness."  By  it, 
they  would  indicate  that  their  exaltation  is  so  lofty,  that  it 
is  unaffected  by  the  contests  and  turmoil  of  the  lower  re- 


258  CHRISTIAN   HUMILITY. 

gion  in  which  the  common  mass  of  men  live.  Their  posi- 
tion is  wholly  inaccessible,  and  therefore  their  temper  is 
perfectly  calm.  But  what  a  "  serene  highness  "  envelops 
the  character  of  Christ,  like  a  halo.  What  greatness  ac- 
companies the  gentleness.  Even  Rousseau,  who  had  no 
meekness,  and  no  love  for  the  trait,  acknowledged  that  the 
character  of  Christ  is  the  most  lofty  one  in  history.  He 
thought  it  so  sublime  as  to  say,  that  if  it  had  been  the 
mere  idealizing  and  invention  of  the  unlettered  evangel- 
ists, they  would  have  performed  a  greater  miracle  than 
even  the  character  itself  was. 

And  do  we,  in  contemplating  the  character  of  Jesus, 
find  that  the  humility  which  he  exhibited  lowers  it  in  the 
least  in  our  estimation  ?  Look  at  that  scene  in  which  this 
trait  appears  in  a  very  striking  manner — the  washing  of 
his  disciples'  feet.  "  Jesus  [though]  knowing  that  the 
Father  had  given  all  things  into  his  hands,  and  that  he 
was  come  from  God,  and  went  to  God " — this  Divine 
Being,  while  holding  all  things  in  his  power,  and  issu- 
ing from  Eternity,  and  returning  to  it  when  he  chose — 
[yet]  "  riseth  from  supper  and  laid  aside  his  garments, 
and  took  a  towel,  and  girded  himself.  After  that,  he 
poureth  water  into  a  bason,  and  began  to  wash  the  disci- 
ples' feet,  and  to  wipe  them  with  the  towel  wherewith  he 
was  girded."  Connected  with  this  in  itself  menial  act,  is 
there  even  the  slightest  thought  of  self-degradation  ?  We 
may  be  astonished  at  the  condescension,  as  Peter  was  when 
he  cried :  "  Lord,  dost  thou  wash  my  feet  ?  "  But  the 
idea  that  Christ  forfeited  his  personal  dignity ;  that  he 
forgot  his  human  position,  and  did  an  improper  act,  out 
of  keeping  with  it;  never  for  an  instant  enters  our  minds, 
as  we  read  this  narrative  and  ponder  upon  it.  Does  not 
this  menial  office,  which  would  excite  pity  if  performed 
by  a  slave  from  fear  or  compulsion,  cause  us  involuntarily 


CHRISTIAN  HUMILITY.  259 

to  bow  in  reverence?  When  the  Roman  pontiff,  sur- 
rounded by  his  cardinals  and  announced  by  a  salvo  of 
artillery,  with  great  pomp  and  external  show  apes  this 
beautiful  and  dignified  condescension  of  the  Son  of  man, 
and  washes  the  feet  of  a  Roman  beggar,  the  spectator  looks 
on  with  scorn,  or  turns  away  in  pity.  But  not  so  with  the 
original,  of  which  this  is  the  poor  and  blasphemous  mim- 
icry. The  blending,  in  the  God-man,  of  a  divine  dignity 
and  majesty,  with  a  human  and  affectionate  condescension 
towards  his  disciples  and  his  brethren,  will  ever  waken  ad- 
miration in  him  who  is  possessed  merely  of  a  cultivated 
taste,  like  Rousseau ;  much  more  must  it  waken  revering 
love,  and  a  desire  really  to  imitate  it,  in  the  believer  who 
feels  his  own  unworthiness,  and  beholds  in  Christ  the 
"  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image 
of  his  person." 

These  considerations  are  sufficient  to  indicate  the  true 
nature  of  humility,  in  contradiction  to  the  pagan  concep- 
tion of  it.  We  are  certain  that  there  is  nothing  in  it 
kindred  to  servility,  or  pusillanimity,  when  we  see  it  lend- 
ing a  charm  to  the  most  perfect  and  symmetrical  life  that 
was  ever  lived  upon  earth.  We  can  form  a  very  safe  esti- 
mate of  any  quality  or  trait,  by  looking  at  it  in  actual 
daily  life ;  by  seeing  it  as  it  weaves  itself  into  the  web  of 
human  actions  and  relations.  If  it  look  lovely  and  admir- 
able there ;  if  we  find  it,  in  Wordsworth's  phrase, 

"  not  too  good 
For  human  nature's  daily  food, 
And  yet  a  spirit  still  and  bright, 
With  something  of  an  angel  light," 

then  it  must  be  so  in  its  abstract,  intrinsic  nature.  Hu- 
mility, therefore,  must  be  a  worthy  and  noble  trait ;  for  it 
was  an  attribute  of  the  noblest  of  beings;  it  nms  like  a 


260  CHRISTIAN  HUMILITY. 

bright  silken  thread  through  the  holiest  and  most  beauti- 
ful life. 

"We  are  commanded,  in  the  text,  to  be  "  clothed  "  with 
this  grace ;  to  wear  it  as  a  garment  that  wraps  the  wearer 
all  over  like  a  cloak ;  to  appear  in  it  as  a  habit  or  dress 
wherever  we  go.  Let  us  notice  some  of  the  reasons  for 
this  command.  And  inasmuch  as  the  light  of  the  gospel 
first  disclosed  this  grace,  which  had  escaped  the  notice  of 
the  wisdom  of  this  world,  let  us  view  it  in  this  light.  Let 
us  take  our  stand  upon  Christianity,  and  from  what  it 
teaches  concerning  the  nature  of  God  and  the  nature  of 
man,  and  their  mutual  relations,  let  us  see  that  there  are 
conclusive  reasons  why  every  man,  without  exception, 
should  be  humble. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  humility  is  becoming  to  man,  be- 
cause he  is  a  creature.  There  is  no  difference  so  great  as 
that  between  the  Creator  and  the  creature.  The  distance 
between  man  and  the  house  which  he  builds,  or  the  cloth 
which  he  manufactures,  is  very  great,  but  it  is  not  equal  to 
that  between  God  and  man.  The  house  and  the  cloth  are 
made  out  of  existing  materials  ;  but  God  made  man  out  of 
the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  the  dust  of  the  earth  he  made 
out  of  nothing.  In  this  creaturely  relation,  therefore, 
there  is  not  the  slightest  opportunity  or  ground  for  pride. 
Shall  a  being  who  was  originated  from  nonentity  by 
almighty  power,  and  who  can  be  reduced  again  to  non- 
entity by  that  same  power — shall  a  being  who  a  little 
while  ago  had  no  existence,  and  in  an  instant  might 
vanish  into  non-existence,  swell  with  haughtiness  ?  Surely, 
humility  is  the  fitting  emotion  for  a  created  being.  "  Talk 
no  more  so  exceeding  proudly :  let  not  arrogancy  come 
out  of  your  mouth  ;  for  the  Lord  is  a  God  of  knowledge, 
and  by  him  actions  are  weighed  "  (1  Sam.  ii.  3). 

The  distance  between  man  and  his  Maker  is  so  great, 


CHRISTIAN  HUMILITY.  261 

that  the  instinctive  feeling  which  is  elicited  is  that  of 
dread.  If  we  examine  the  pagan  religions,  we  discover 
that  a  vague  and  oppressing  terror  before  the  Deity  is  the 
predominating  emotion  in  them  all.  Thej  denominate 
him  the  "  Unknown  God,"  and  Panl  found  even  the  cul- 
tivated Greek  bowing  down  in  abject  fear.  But  such  an 
emotion  as  this  is  destructive  of  true  humility.  It  is  too 
tumultuous  and  terrifying,  to  allow  of  such  a  gentle,  such 
a  quiet,  and  such  an  affectionate  feeling  as  the  gospel  low- 
liness and  meekness.  If  the  human  soul  be  filled  with  a 
shadowy  and  anxious  dread  before  an  agnostic  God,  and  it 
ignorantly  worships  him  under  the  suffocating  influence  of 
this  feeling,  there  can  be  none  of  that  intelligent  and  calm 
self -prostration  which  the  text  enjoins.  We  must  have 
some  truthful  and  definite  apprehension  of  God ;  he  must 
be  something  more  for  us  than  a  dark  abyss  of  being  into 
whose  vortex  the  little  atom  is  swallowed  up  and  lost ;  in 
order  to  bow  down  before  him  with  filial  reverence,  and 
entire  submission.  Revelation  gives  man  this  clear  and 
intelligent  view.  It  darts  a  bright  beam  of  light  through 
the  infinite  distance  which  separates  the  creature  from  the 
Creator.  It  reveals  him  as  "  the  high  and  lofty  One  that 
inhabits  eternity ; "  and  also  as  "  dwelling  with  him  that 
is  of  an  humble  and  contrite  heart,  to  revive  and  to  bless." 
It  describes  him  as  the  august  Being  whose  name  is  "  I  am," 
the  "  Holy  Lord  God  Almighty  which  was,  and  is,  and  is 
to  come  ; "  and  also  as  "  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,"  through  whom  we  have  the  forgiveness  of 
sins,  and  the  hope  of  everlasting  life.  In  combining  the 
infinite  majesty  with  the  infinite  condescension,  the  Bible 
lays  the  foundation  for  a  genuine  humility  that  is  heaven- 
wide  from  the  servile  terror  of  the  pagan  devotee.  It  is  a 
tender  and  gentle  emotion.  Well  does  our  Lord  say,  that 
he  who  carries  it  as  a  yoke,  finds  it  an  "  easy  "  one  ;  that 


262  CHRISTIAN  HUMILITY. 

he  who  bears  it  as  a  burden,  feels  that  it  is  a  "light" 
one.  Well  does  he  say,  that  that  soul  which  learns  of  him, 
and  becomes  meek  and  lowly  of  heart,  "finds  rest." 

Humility,  again,  is  an  ennobling  emotion,  because  it 
brings  man  into  his  right  position  before  God.  That  be- 
ing belittles  himself  who  gets  out  of  his  place,  and  occupies 
one  that  does  not  belong  to  him.  In  our  Lord's  parable, 
the  man  who  took  the  highest  seat  in  the  synagogue  dis- 
graced himself  in  the  very  act.  He  went  where  he  was 
not  entitled  to  go,  and  he  was  put  back  where  he  properly 
belonged.  But  he  who  took  the  lowest  room,  he  who  did 
not  claim  the  highest  place  as  his  proper  position,  was  re- 
warded for  his  humble  and  just  estimate  of  himself  by  the 
invitation  to  "go  up  higher."  Precisely  so  is  it  with  the 
creature's  relations  to  God.  He  who  is  conscious  of  his  in- 
significance before  his  Maker,  and  in  comparison  with  his 
Maker,  is  thereby  exalted  to  a  height  that  can  be  reached 
ill  no  other  way.  We  see  this  in  the  act  of  worship.  When 
we  adore  the  Infinite  Jehovah,  and  give  him  the  glory  that 
is  due  unto  his  name,  our  whole  mood  and  temper  is  lowly. 
And  we  are  in  our  right  place.  We  ought  to  lie  low  at 
the  footstool  of  the  Eternal.  And  having  done  this  ;  hav- 
ing worshipped  the  King  eternal,  immortal,  and  invisible ; 
we  are  exalted  in  the  very  act.  Our  feeble,  finite,  created 
nature  is  never  clothed  with  such  dignity,  as  when  we  are 
showing  reverence  to  our  Sovereign.  Why  is  it  that  the 
very  posture  of  worship,  the  posture  of  humility,  elicits 
respect  from  all  beholders  ?  JSTo  one  can  look  upon  the 
devotions  of  even  an  ignorant  papist  before  a  crucifix  at 
the  corner  of  the  street,  or  of  an  ignorant  Mohammedan 
with  his  face  towards  Mecca,  without  a  degree  of  consider- 
ation. There  is  a  fellow-creature  who,  in  attitude  at  least, 
is  bending  before  the  infinite  majesty  of.  heaven ;  and 
though  we  know  that  his  worship  is  blind  and  super- 


CHRISTIAN  HUMILITY.  263 

stitious,  it  would  shock  our  sensibilities  should  he  be  in- 
sulted, or  interrupted  in  his  prayer.  There  is  dignity  in 
worship.  "  Those  thoughts,"  says  Lichtenberg,  "  elevate 
the  soul  which  throw  the  body  upon  the  knee."  The  act 
of  adoration,  in  which  the  spirit  of  humility  reaches  its 
height,  is  the  sublimest  one  of  which  the  creature  is  capa- 
ble. And  this,  because  it  is  that  act  in  which  he  confesses 
and  feels  himself  to  be  a  creature — a  being  who  was  origi- 
nated from  nothing  by  the  fiat  of  the  Creator,  and  who 
possesses  nothing  that  he  has  not  received. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  humility  is  becoming  to  man 
because  he  is  a  dependent  being.  He  who  is  independent, 
and  does  not  owe  his  existence,  or  the  continuance  of  it, 
to  any  other  than  himself,  is  not  called  upon  to  be  humble. 
Humility  would  be  unbefitting  in  the  Great  God.  He  must 
of  necessity  possess  the  calm  consciousness  of  independence, 
and  self -subsistence.  And  yet  this  is  not  pride.  God  can- 
not be  proud,  any  more  than  he  can  be  humble.  For  pride 
supposes  a  comparison  with  another  being  of  the  same 
species,  and  a  degree  of  rivalry  with  him.  But  with  whom 
can  God  compare  himself ;  and  towards  what  other  being 
can  he  feel  the  least  emotion  of  emulation  ?  He  dwells  in 
the  solitude  of  his  own  unapproachable  excellence,  and 
therefore  he  can  neither  be  lifted  up  with  haughtiness,  nor 
bowed  down  in  lowliness.  But  man  is  not  such  a  being. 
All  his  springs  are  in  God.  He  is  dependent  for  life, 
health,  and  all  temporal  things.  He  is  dependent,  above 
all,  for  spiritual  life  and  health,  and  all  the  blessed  things 
of  eternity.  In  the  strong  Scripture  phraseology,  he 
"  lives,  moves,  and  has  his  being  "  in  God.  He  is  kept  in 
existence,  and  watched  over  by  the  minute,  the  microscopic 
providence  of  God,  with  more  kindness  than  the  mother 
guards  her  infant,  and  therefore  the  least  that  he  can  do, 
is  to  look  up  .with  an  adoring  eye  and  meekly  acknowledge 


264  CHRISTIAN  HUMILITY. 

his  dependence.  Certainly,  that  creature  ought  to  be  very 
lowly  who  is  finite  and  helpless,  and  yet  has  an  eternity 
depending  upon  the  life  he  leads  here.  Standing  as  man 
does  on  the  shore  of  an  illimitable  sea,  upon  which  he  is 
to  embark,  with  no  power  in  himself  to  support  and  guide 
over  its  dark  expanse,  he  should  be  very  humble  and  very 
trusting.  The  sound  of  those  "  waters  rolling  evermore  " 
should  send  far  into  his  heart  a  feeling  of  weakness,  and 
dependency.  His  whole  life  upon  the  raging  billows  of 
time  ought  to  be  one  continued  act  of  lowly  trust,  one  con- 
tinued state  of  meek  reliance. 

But  this  does  not  exhaust  the  subject  under  this 
head.  Man  is  dependent  not  only  upon  his  Creator, 
but  also  upon  his  fellow-creature.  He  is  part  of  a 
great  whole,  and  is  therefore  in  a  state  of  connection 
and  interdependency.  No  man  can  stand  up  alone, 
and  sustain  himself  without  any  assistance  from  his 
fellow-men.  Even  he  who  practically  denies  his  depen- 
dence upon  God,  acknowledges  either  directly  or  indirectly 
his  dependence  upon  man.  How  many  men  are  humble, 
nay,  are  abject,  before  a  fellow-worm,  because  they  are  in 
some  way  dependent  upon  him,  but  are  proud  in  the  sight 
of  God,  by  whom  both  they  and  their  fellow-creatures  are 
sustained.  Thus  does  man,  even  in  his  sin,  confess  his  own 
weakness.  In  a  life  and  world  of  sin,  he  clings  to  his  frail 
fellow-sinner  for  support.  The  thought  of  being  cut  off 
from  all  connection  with  others  alarms  him.  Were  the 
whole  human  family  to  be  removed  from  the  planet  by 
death,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  individual,  and  this 
single  person  were  to  be  reprobated  by  God,  and  thus  cut 
off  from  all  connection  and  intercourse  with  any  being 
human  or  divine,  he  would  be  a  terror  to  himself.  What 
fear  would  settle  like  a  cloud  upon  him,  if  having  no  trust 
in  the  Almighty  he  found  no  fellow-creature  to  run  to, 


CHRISTIAN  HUMILITY.  265 

though  only  for  a  temporary  solace  and  stay.  Standing  in 
sucli  absolute  loneliness  in  the  middle  of  the  universe, 
with  neither  God  nor  man  to  lean  upon,  methinks  he  would 
desire  annihilation.  So  firmly  and  profoundly  implanted 
in  human  nature  is  the  instinctive  longing  for  social  inter- 
course with  a  fellow-being,  and  the  desire  to  rest  upon 
some  other  than  self.  And  ought  not  this  species  of  de- 
pendence, also,  though  it  be  a  minor  one  when  compared 
with  the  creature's  dependence  upon  God,  to  minister  to  a 
lowly  heart  ?  Should  not  every  man  esteem  others  better 
than  himself,  be  thankful  for  the  benefits  which  he  is  con- 
stantly receiving  either  directly  or  indirectly  from  others, 
and,  in  the  end,  looking  up  to  the  great  First  Cause,  humbly 
adore  him  as  the  Being  who  sits  above  all  these  minor 
agencies,  upholding  and  controlling  as  they  work  and  inter- 
weave among  themselves  far  beneath  him?  Since  men 
are  all  walking  together  in  this  state  of  existence  as  it  were 
in  a  starless  night,  and  their  feet  stumble  among  the  dark 
mountains,  they  should  mutually  recognize  their  obliga- 
tions to  each  other,  and  there  should  be  no  boasting.  The 
sense  of  their  dependence  would  render  them  meek  and 
lowly  ;  and  this  meekness  and  gentleness  would  naturally 
beget  that  hve  of  their  neighbor  as  themselves,  which  is 
the  sum  of  the  second  table  of  the  law. 

in.  In  the  third  place,  man  should  be  humble  because 
he  is  a  sinful  being.  What  has  been  remarked  of  man  as 
created  and  dependent  will  apply  to  all  beings  but  God. 
The  first  two  reasons  which  we  have  assigned  for  humility 
are  valid  for  the  angels  and  the  archangels.  They  are 
creatures,  and  they  are  dependent.  And  if  we  would  find 
the  deepest  humility  in  the  universe,  the  most  profound 
lowliness  of  heart,  we  must  seek  it  in  the  shining  ranks  of 
heaven ;  in  the  wing-veiled  faces  of  the  seraphim.  But 
there  \^  another  special  reason  why  man  should  be  humble 
12 


266  CHRiSTiAisr  humility. 

which  has  no  application  to  the  holy  angel.  Man  is  a 
sinner.  When  Jehovah  appeared  "  sitting  upon  a  throne 
high  and  lifted  np,"  the  seraph  cried  and  said,  "  Holy, 
holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of  hosts ;  the  whole  earth  is  full  of 
his  glory."  But  the  prophet  Isaiah  upon  seeing  the  very 
same  vision  said,  "  Woe  is  me  !  for  I  am  undone  ;  because 
I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a 
people  of  unclean  lips  ;  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  the  King, 
tlie  Lord  of  hosts."  The  seraph  was  humble  as  a  creature 
merely.  The  man  was  humble  as  a  sinner  as  well  as  a 
creature. 

The  fact  that  we  are  transgressors  before  God  should 
abase  us  in  the  dust  before  him.  The  heart  of  a  criminal 
is  no  place  for  pride,  and  he  ought  to  stand  afar  off,  and 
cry,  "  God  be  merciful."  Considering  the  peculiar  atti- 
tude in  which  guilty  man  stands  before  God,  self-abase- 
ment ought  to  be  the  main  feeling  in  his  heart.  For  in 
addition  to  the  infinite  difference  there  is  originally  be- 
tween himself  and  his  Maker,  he  has  rendered  himself  yet 
more  different  by  apostasy.-  The  first  was  only  a  difference 
in  respect  to  essence  ;  but  the  last  is  a  difference  in  respect 
to  character.  How  strange  it  is  that  he  should  forget  this 
difference,  and  entering  into  a  comparison  of  himself  with 
his  fellow-men  should  plume  himself  upon  a  supposed 
superiority.  The  culprits  are  disputing  which  shall  be 
the  greatest,  at  the  very  instant  when  their  sentence  of 
condemnation  is  issuing  from  the  lips  of  their  Judge ! 
How  poor  a  thing  it  is,  to  see  a  little  creature  over- 
estimating himself  for  qualities,  the  possession  of  which 
he  owes  to  the  very  Being  against  whom  he  is  in  rebellion. 
How  vain  and  futile  a  thing  it  is,  for  a  little  atom  to  at- 
tempt to  isolate  itself  from  everything  else  and  float  alone 
ill  immensity,  endeavoring,  contrary  to  great  laws,  to  lead 
a  separate  existence  by  itself  and  for  itself,  and,  in  this 


CHRISTIAN   HUMILITY..  267 

attitude  of  rebellion  against  the  Creator  and  Kuler  of  all, 
boasting  with  exultation  and  self-complacency.  It  is  ab- 
surd, on  the  very  face  of  it. 

"Proud  man, 
Drest  in  a  little  brief  authoritj, 
Plays  such  fantastic  tricks  before  Mgh.  heaven 
As  make  angels  weep." 

There  is  still  another  consideration  under  this  head 
which  strengthens  the  motive  for  humility.  "We  have  seen 
that  the  fact  of  sin  furnishes  an  additional  reason  for  self- 
abasement,  because  it  increases  the  distance  between  man 
and  God  ;  it  has  also  made  him  still  more  dependent  upon 
God.  There  is  no  helplessness  like  that  of  a  convicted 
and  imprisoned  criminal.  He  cannot  stir  hand  or  foot. 
He  cannot  say  a  word  in  his  own  defence,  for  he  has  been 
tried,  and  proved  guilty.  He  cannot  employ  force  to  de- 
liver himself,  for  he  is  shut  up  behind  solid  walls  and  iron 
grates.  He  is  utterly  dependent  upon  the  sovereign  power 
which  has  sentenced  and  imprisoned  him.  Such  is  sinful 
man  in  relation  to  the  Divine  government.  He  is  the 
most  helpless  of  the  helpless.  Nothing  but  pure  and  mere 
mercy  can  deliver  him.  But  nothing  interferes  with  the 
exercise  of  mercy  like  pride  in  the  criminal.  A  proud  man 
cannot  be  forgiven.  It  involves  a  self-contradiction.  If 
there  be  self-asserting  haughtiness  in  the  heart,  God  can 
neither  bestow  grace  nor  man  receive  it.  There  can  be 
no  forgiveness,  unless  there  be  confession  of  sin,  and  godly 
sorrow.  Mere  remorse  furnishes  no  opportunity  for  the 
exercise  of  clemency.  The  devils  are  full  of  this  feeling, 
and  yet  are  as  antagonistic  to  the  Divine  mercy  as  fire  is 
to  water.  It  is  not  the  "  sorrow  of  the  world,"  the  sorrow 
of  hell,  but  the  "  godly  sorrow,"  which  prepares  the  soul 
to  receive  the  sweet  and  blessed  absolution  of  heavenly 


268  CHEISTIAN  HUMILITY. 

pity.  But  this  feeling  is  a  humble  one.  Penitence  is  very 
lowly.  In  fact,  the  difference  between  the  two  sorrows — 
the  sorrow  of  the  world,  and  the  godly  sorrow — is  due  to 
the  presence  or  the  absence  of  humility.  The  sense  of 
sin  takes  its  character  from  the  temper  of  the  soul.  When 
it  wakes  up  in  a  proud  and  hard  heart,  it  wears  and  tears 
it.  It  becomes  remorse — that  "  sorrow  of  the  world  which 
worketh  death,"  the  main  element  in  eternal  death,  the 
"  worm  "  and  the  "  fire."  But  when  the  sense  of  sin  is 
wakened  in  a  humble  and  broken  heart,  there  is  no  lacera- 
tion. It  becomes  that  "  godly  sorrow  which  worketh  re- 
pentance unto  life."  It  produces  that  subdued,  tender, 
chastened  tone  of  feeling  which  leads  man  in  lowly  faith 
to  the  foot  of  the  Cross. 

*'  Kemorse  is  as  the  heart  in  which,  it  grows : 
If  that  be  humble,  it  drops  balmy  dews 
Of  true  repentance  ;  but  if  proud  and  gloomy, 
It  is  a  poison-tree  that,  pierced  to  the  inmost, 
Weeps  only  tears  of  poison."  ' 

If,  therefore,  we  would  have  the  sense  of  sin  produce 
any  salutary  and  blessed  -results  within  us,  we  must  obtain 
a  meek  and  lowly  spirit — one  that  does  not  proudly  fight 
against  the  convictions  of  conscience,  and  thus  rouse  that 
faculty  to  vengeance  and  despair,  but  which  acknowledges 
and  confesses  the  justice  of  its  charges,  and  humbly  waits 
for  the  mercy  of  God,  who  pours  the  oil  of  joy  into  such  a 
heart.  If,  then,  you  ever  have  your  attention  directed  to 
your  transgressions,  and  the  conviction  of  sin  and  the  feel- 
ing of  ill-desert  is  roused,  do  not  proudly  try  to  smother 
and  quench  it,  for  it  will  prove  to  be  a  fire  shut  up  in  your 
bones  that  will  ultimately  burn  to  the  lowest  hell.    On  the 

'Coleridge:  Eemorse,  Act  I.,  Scene  i. 


CHEISTIAN   HUMILITY.  269 

contrary,  be  humble  ;  confess  the  sin  with  meekness,  and 
look  to  the  blood  of  Christ  for  its  pardon.  Then  you  will 
understand  how  it  is  that  when  you  are  humble  then  you 
are  exalted,  and  when  you  are  weak  then  you  are  strong. 
"When  the  sinner's  stout  and  self-righteous  heart  yields, 
and  he  meekly  acknowledges  his  sin,  by  this  very  act  he 
takes  hold  of  the  justifying  righteousness  of  the  Redeemer, 
and  then  he  is  exalted,  and  then  he  is  safe. 

rV.  A  fourth,  and  most  powerful  reason,  why  man  should 
be  clothed  with  humility,  is  found  in  the  vicarious  suffer- 
ing and  atonement  of  Christ  in  his  behalf.  The  apostle 
Paul,  directing  Titus  to  enjoin  upon  his  hearers  "  to 
speak  evil  of  no  man,  to  be  no  brawlers,  but  gentle,  showing 
all  meekness  unto  all  men,"  assigns  as  a  special  reason  the 
fact,  that  the  "  kindness  and  love  of  God  our  Saviour  has 
appeared  toward  man,  in  the  washing  of  regeneration 
and  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Saviour."  The  Cross  of  Christ  is  the  great  motive  to 
a  meek  and  lowly  temper.  He  who  has  a  vivid  view  of 
those  dark  scenes  in  the  innocent  life  of  the  Blessed  Re- 
deemer, and  considers  the  purpose  for  which  he  was  in  an 
agony  and  sweat  great  drops  of  blood,  cannot  cherish  pride 
in  his  heart,  unless  his  heart  is  the  heart  of  Judas.  Feel- 
ing himself  to  be  a  condemned  sinner,  and  beholding  the 
Lamb  of  God  "  made  a  curse  for  him,"  and  bearing  his 
sins  in  His  owti  body  on  the  tree,  all  self-confidence  and 
self-righteousness  will  die  out  of  his  soul.  Coming  down 
from  Calvary,  he  cannot  straightway  forget  what  he  has 
seen,  and  return  as  did  the  malignant  Jews  to  the  pomp 
and  vanity  of  the  earthly  Jerusalem,  and  live  a  proud  and 
sensual  life.  On  the  contrary,  he  finds  in  the  sufferings 
and  death  of  Christ  a  motive  both  for  self-abasement,  and 
for  hope — a  motive  for  self-abasement,  because  in  the 
bright  light  around  the  Cross  he  sees  his  sins  to  be  scarlet 


270  CHRISTIAN   HUMILITY. 

and  crimson  ;  a  motive  for  hope,  beeanse  of  the  free  and 
full  forgiveness  that  is  offered.  Nothing  subdues  a  haughty 
spirit  like  the  passion  and  agony  of  the  Saviour  for  the 
sin  of  the  world.  There  is  a  strangely  softening  power  in 
the  blood  of  Christ.  The  fabled  Medusa's  head  was  said 
to  turn  every  one  who  looked  upon  it  into  stone  ;  but  the 
Cross  and  the  Holy  Sufferer  upon  it  is  a  sight  that  converts 
the  beholder  from  stone  into  flesh. 

Such,  then,  are  the  conclusive  reasons  and  motives  for 
Christian  humility.  We  are  creatures ;  we  are  dependent 
creatures ;  we  are  guilty  creatures ;  and  we  are  creatures 
for  whom  the  Son  of  God  has  suffered  and  died.  It  is  a 
grace  much  insisted  upon  by  our  Lord,  and  very  difficult 
for  our  proud  natures  to  acquire  and  cultivate.  But  it 
must  be  acquired.  Pride  is  the  inmost  substance  of  sin. 
Adam  desired  to  be  "  as  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil." 
Lucifer,  the  Son  of  the  Morning,  aspired  to  the  throne 
of  the  Eternal.  Both  the  angel  and  the  man  fell  by  pride. 
Humility  is  the  opposite  grace  and  virtue.  It  is  the  slow- 
est and  latest  of  any  to  take  root  again  in  our  apostate 
nature.  Even  when  we  have  bowed  down  in  true  low- 
liness of  heart,  the  very  first  emotion,  oftentimes,  that 
springs  up  after  the  act,  is  the  emotion  of  pride.  We  are 
proud  because  we  have  been  humble!  So  subtle  and 
inveterate  in  our  souls  is  that  "  old  serpent,"  that  prim- 
itive sin  whereby  the  angels  fell,  and  whereby  man  trans- 
gressed. 

We  must,  therefore,  cultivate  this  particular  grace  as  we 
would  cultivate  a  choice  exotic  flower  in  an  unkindly  soil 
and  clime.  We  must  toil  to  "  be  clothed  with  humility." 
We  must  habitually  feel  our  entire  dependence  upon  God, 
and  also  our  secondary  dependence  upon  man.  We  must 
cherish  a  deeper  sense  of  personal  unworthiness.  And 
above  all,  we  must  behold  the  suffering  Lamb  of  God,  and 


CHEISTIAlSr   HUMILITY.  271 

remember  the  deserved  damnation  from  wliicli  he  has 
saved  us.  "  Put  on,  therefore,  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy 
and  beloved,  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness,  humbleness 
of  mind,  meekness,  long-suffering,  forbearing  one  an- 
other, and  forgiving  one  another,  if  any  man  have  a 
quarrel  against  any ;  even  as  Christ  forgave  you,  so  also 
do  ye." 


SEEMON  XYm. 

PRIDE  VITIATES  RELIGIOUS  KNOWLEDGE. 


1  Corinthians  viii.  2. — "If  any  man  think  that  he  knoweth  any- 
thing, he  knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to  know. " 


In  reading  this  text,  we  must  lay  a  strong  emphasis 
upon  the  word  "  think,"  if  we  would  feel  the  force  of  it. 
St.  Paul  would  teach  certain  members  of  the  Corinthian 
Church,  who  were  inclined  to  place  a  high  estimate  upon 
a  philosophical  comprehension  of  religious  truth,  and  who 
therefore  were  liable  to  a  spurious  kind  of  knowledge, 
that  if  any  one  of  them  conceitedly  supposed  or  imagined 
liimself  to  comprehend  the  gospel  mysteries,  he  was  in  re- 
ality utterly  ignorant  concerning  them.  This  party  in  the 
Church  claimed  to  possess  a  more  profound  apprehension 
of  Christian  truth  than  the  rest  of  the  brotherhood.  They 
were  filled  with  an  intellectual  pride  and  ambition  that 
blinded  them  to  the  real  and  sanctifying  meaning  of  the 
Gospel.  They  thought  they  knew.  The  apostle  tells  them 
that  such  knowledge  as  this  puffs  up,  but  that  real  Chris- 
tian love  builds  up;  and  adds,  that  "if  any  man  ihinh 
that  he  knoweth  anything,  he  knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he 
ought  to  know."  The  doctrine  of  the  text,  therefore,  is, 
that  pride  vitiates  religious  knowledge.  We  proceed  to 
mention  some  particulars  in  respect  to  which  this  appears. 


PRIDE  VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.        273 

I.  In  the  first  place,  pride  injures  our  religious  knowl- 
edge in  respect  to  its  quantity  or  extent.  If  this  feeling  be 
in  the  heart,  we  shall  not  see  so  much,  nor  so  far.  The 
apostle  refers  to  that  disposition  which  leads  a  man,  when 
he  has  made  some  addition  to  his  stock  of  knowledge,  to 
stop  and  review  it,  and  boast  of  it.  He  has  in  mind  that 
self-complacent  spirit  which  is  not  content  with  the  appre- 
hension of  truth,  but  which  must  sally  forth  and  tell  the 
world  how  much  it  knows.  These  Corinthian  disciples 
were  anxious  to  make  an  impression  by  their  supposed  su- 
perior insight  into  Christian  doctrine.  They  gloried  in 
their  attainments,  real  or  reputed ;  and  hence  St.  Paul 
says  to  them  :  "  If  any  man  among  you  seemetli  to  be  wise 
in  this  world,  let  him  become  a  fool,  that  he  may  be  wise. 
For  the  wisdom  of  this  world  is  foolishness  with  God. 
Therefore  let  no  man  glory  in  men."  Let  no  man  plume 
himself  upon  his  own  personal  acquisitions,  or  upon  the 
knowledge  of  that  particular  human  teacher — that  Paul, 
or  Apollos,  or  Cephas — whom  he  calls  his  master. 

Such  a  self-complacent  spirit  as  this  tends  to  diminish 
the  quantity  or  extent  of  a  man's  knowledge,  because  it 
prevents  him  from  surveying  and  travelling  over  the  whole 
field.  Having  obtained  a  partial  view,  he  stops  to  con- 
gratulate himself  upon  his  discovery,  and  to  inform  others 
how  much  he  has  seen.  His  self-gratulation  blinds  his 
eye  to  the  vast  spaces  that  still  stretch  away  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  that  still  remain  to  be  explored.  He  is  like  a 
traveller  among  the  Alps,  who,  having  ascended  the  first 
range  of  hills,  and  seeing  the  lower  valleys,  should  imagine, 
or  "  think,"  that  he  had  exhausted  Switzerland — had  taken 
up  into  his  senses  and  soul  that  whole  vast  expanse  of 
mountains,  valleys,  lakes,  streams,  chasms,  verdure,  and 
eternal  snow,  Mdiich  constitutes  the  physical  heart  of  Eu- 
rope. That  tarrying  upon  the  heights  already  reached, 
12* 


274        PRIDE   VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE. 

and  that  self -congratulation  upon  the  scanty  view  that  first 
broke  upon  the  eje,  was  fatal  to  a  comprehensive  vision. 
This  man  who  "  thinks  "  that  he  knows  Switzerland,  knows 
nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to  know. 

This  is  especially  true  of  the  apprehension  of  divine 
things.  The  instant  a  Christian  begins  to  dwell  upon  his 
knowledge  of  God,  or  of  himself,  with  any  degree  of  self- 
complacency,  he  begins  to  stop  his  growth  in  knowledge. 
Take,  for  illustration,  the  knowledge  of  his  own  heart — of 
its  corruption  and  its  plague.  So  long  as  the  Christian 
perceives  indwelling  sin  with  a  simple  and  enlightened 
perception  of  its  turpitude,  and  humbly  mourns  over  it 
and  confesses  it,  so  long  he  makes  advance  in  this  species 
of  knowledge.  One  shade  or  aspect  of  sin  conducts  him 
to  the  next,  and  so  on  in  indefinite  progression,  until  he 
becomes  widely  learned  in  the  human  heart,  and  pro- 
foundly abased  before  God.  But  the  instant  he  begins  to 
think  of  the  extent  to  which  he  has  gone  in  self-inspec- 
tion, and  to  glory  in  his  self-knowledge,  that  instant  he 
brings  the  whole  process  to  a  stand-still.  He  creates  an 
eddy  in  the  flowing  stream  of  his  self- reflection,  and  wliirls 
round  and  round,  instead  of  moving  onward  and  onward. 
And  unless  the  volume  of  water  starts  once  more,  and  gets 
out  of  this  whirlpool ;  unless  the  Christian  ceases  to  think 
of  how  much  he  knows,  and  to  boast  of  it ;  unless  he  re- 
turns to  that  simple  perception  that  is  accompanied  with 
humility  and  sorrow;  he  will  never  know  any  more  of  his 
own  heart  than  he  now  knows.  And  even  this  degree  of 
knowledge  will  not  stay  by  him.  "  To  him  that  hath  shall 
be  given,  and  he  shall  have  more  abundance ;  but  from 
him  that  hath  not,  shall  be  taken  even  that  he  hath." 
These  slight  measures  of  self-knowledge,  over  which  he 
has  boasted,  will  themselves  be  absorbed  in  the  pride  of 
the  heart,  and  disappear  entirely  from  the  experience. 


PEIDE  VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.        275 

"We  might  select  other  features  in  the  Christian  experi- 
ence, and  apply  the  same  reasoning  to  them,  with  the 
same  result.  He  who  contemplates  the  character  of  God, 
with  no  side  glances  at  himself  in  the  way  of  pride  at  his 
fancied  wisdom  ;  he  who  simply  beholds  the  glory  of  the 
Holy  One,  and  bows  down  before  it  in  reverence  and  awe ; 
is  carried  forward  from  one  vision  to  another.  But  the 
instant  he  begins  to  admire  the  results  of  his  contempla- 
tion and  study  in  this  direction,  the  charm  is  dissolved. 
The  face  of  God  is  veiled,  and  he  sees  it  no  longer.  He, 
again,  who,  having  perceived  the  adaptation  of  the  atone- 
ment of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  the  guilty  conscience, 
begins  to  be  proud  of  his  perception,  destroys  the  per- 
ception. If  having  seen  the  Lamb  of  God,  he  begins  to 
feel  meretorious  because  he  has  seen  Him,  and  to  glory  in 
his  spiritual  discernment,  his  soul  fills  up  with  darkness, 
instead  of  a  clearer  and  purer  light.  The  knowledge  of 
these  divine  things  cannot  be  chased  after,  and  boasted 
over  in  this  style.  If  you  would  see  your  shadow  dis- 
tinctly, stand  still  and  look  at  it.  The  instant  you  begin 
to  run  after  it,  or  grasp  at  it,  you  set  it  to  wavering ;  you 
destroy  its  sharp  outlines,  and  its  exact  parts  and  propor- 
tions. So,  too,  the  instant  you  snatch  at,  and  try  to  seize 
hold  of  your  religious  experiences  and  perceptions,  that 
you  may  hold  them  up  triumphantly  before  the  eyes  of 
men,  and  flaunt  them  before  the  world  to  your  own  praise 
— the  instant  you  begin  to  review  your  knowledge  for  self- 
gratulation,  you  damage  and  vitiate  it.  You  injure  it  in 
its  quantity.  You  do  not  see  so  far,  or  so  comprehen- 
sively, as  you  would  had  you  the  meekness  of  wisdom. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  pride  vitiates  our  religious 
knowledge  in  respect  to  its  quality,  or  depth.  Knowledge 
seems  to  have  two  properties  that  correspond  with  two  of 
the  geometrical  dimensions.     It  extends  out  in  every  di- 


276        PEIDE  VITIATES  RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE. 

rection  like  a  plane  surface  ;  and  it  runs  downward,  and 
reaches  upward,  like  a  right  line.  How  natural  it  is  to 
speak  of  a  superficial  knowledge — a  knowledge  that  runs 
to  the  superficies  or  surface  of  things.  And  it  is  equally 
natural  to  speak  of  high  thinking,  and  deep  thinking — of 
a  species  of  reflection  that  penetrates  above  and  below  the 
surface.  In  the  first  head  of  the  discourse,  we  w^ere  en- 
gaged with  knowledge  as  spreading  out  sidewise  in  all  di- 
rections, and  we  saw  that  it  was  circumscribed  and  limited 
by  the  disposition  to  be  conceited  and  boastful.  Pride 
vitiated  it,  by  reducing  its  compass  and  extent.  "We  have 
now  to  notice  how  the  same  sin  renders  it  less  profound  ; 
preventing  it  from  reaching  up  into  the  heights,  and  sink- 
ing down  into  the  depths  of  divine  truth. 

The  moment  the  mind  begins  to  compute  the  distance 
it  has  gone,  it  stops  going.  It  cannot  do  two  things 
together  at  the  same  instant.  If,  therefore,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  pride,  it  pauses  to  see  how  profound  it  has 
become,  to  congratulate  itself  upon  its  profundity,  and  to 
tell  the  world  its  success,  it  adopts  a  suicidal  course.  It 
damages  its  knowledge  in  respect  to  quality.  It  ceases  to 
be  as  pure  and  deep  as  it  was  while  the  mind  was  wholly 
absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  truth.  Take  an  example, 
for  illustration.  Suppose  that  a  sinful  man  directs  his 
thoughts  to  liis  own  sinfulness.  Suppose  that  he  flxes  his 
attention  upon  some  one  sinful  habit,  say  covetousness,  to 
which  he  is  inclined,  and  begins  to  see  plainly  its  odious- 
ness  in  its  own  nature,  and  in  the  eye  of  God.  The 
longer  this  process  continues,  the  more  intent  and  absorb- 
ing the  application  of  his  mind  to  this  one  subject,  the 
deeper  is  his  view.  He  goes  down  lower  and  lower  into 
his  own  heart,  and  his  knowledge  becomes  purer  and  more 
profound  in  its  quality.  Now  suppose  that  his  attention 
is  diverted  from  his  sin  itself,  to  the  consideration  of  the 


PEIDE   VITIATES   EELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.         277 

fact  that  he  has  been  exploring  and  probing  his  sin  ;  sup- 
pose that  he  begins,  as  it  were,  to  look  over  his  own 
shoulder,  and  see  what  he  has  been  doing ;  is  it  not  evi- 
dent that  his  sense  of  the  iniquity  of  his  sin  will  begin  to 
grow  more  shallow,  and  that  he  will  come  up  to  the  sur- 
face of  his  heart  again,  instead  of  penetrating  its  recesses  ? 
The  sin  of  covetousness  will  not  appear  so  odious  to  hiin, 
because  he  begins  to  "  think  "  that  he  understands  all  about 
it ;  and  in  the  end  the  assertion  of  the  apostle  is  verified 
in  his  case :  "  If  any  man  think  that  he  knoweth  anything, 
he  knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to  know." 

III.  In  the  third  place,  pride  vitiates  our  religious 
knowledge,  in  respect  to  its  practicality.  This  is  perhaps 
the  greatest  injury  that  is  done  to  our  apprehension  of 
divine  things,  by  our  self-conceit  and  egotism.  It  is  a 
great  evil  to  have  our  knowledge  diminished  in  its  quan- 
tity and  quality,  in  its  extent  and  depth,  but  it  is  an  even 
greater  evil,  to  have  its  practical  character  and  influence 
injured.  The  only  purpose  for  which  we  ought  to  wish  to  un- 
derstand religious  truth  is,  that  we  may  be  made  better  by 
it.  We  ought  not  to  desire  to  know  God,  except  that  we 
may  become  like  him.  We  ought  not  to  make  any  scrutiny 
into  our  own  sin,  except  for  the  purpose  of  getting  rid  of 
sin.  There  is  no  species  of  truth  or  knowledge  that  is  so 
purely  practical,  as  religious  truth  and  knowledge.  The 
very  instant,  therefore,  it  loses  this  practicality,  by  any 
fault  or  wrong  method  of  our  own,  it  loses  its  most  impor- 
tant element  for  us.  It  degenerates  into  mere  speculation, 
and  hardens  the  heart,  instead  of  melting  it  into  sorrow 
and  love. 

The  first  duty  incumbent  upon  a  man  when  he  has  ob- 
tained some  new  view  of  divine  truth  is,  to  ajpjplij  it.  But 
there  is  nothing  that  so  interferes  with  such  a  personal  ap- 
plication as  pride,  or  self-gratulation.     He  who  seeks  to 


278        PRIDE  VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE. 

understand  the  doctrines  of  Scripture  only  that  he  may 
admire  himself,  or  be  admired  by  others  because  of  his 
knowledge  of  Scripture,  will  never  bring  them  home  to 
himself ;  will  never  employ  them  for  purposes  of  self- 
improvement.  A  French  rhetorician  relates  the  following 
anecdote,  to  show  how  impenetrable  the  vainglorious  mind 
is  to  the  sharp  arrows  of  truth,  and  how  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult it  is  to  induce  such  a  mind  to  allow  any  practical  turn 
or  application  of  a  moral  idea.  "  One  day,"  he  says,  "  the 
Ahh6  de  St.  Cyran  happened  to  touch,  in  the  presence  of 
Balzac,  upon  certain  religious  truths  which  he  developed 
with  great  force.  Balzac,  intent  upon  gaining  from  this 
some  beautiful  thought  to  enshrine  at  some  future  time  in 
a  page  of  his  own,  could  not  help  exclaiming,  '  That  is  ad- 
mirable;'  contenting  himself  with  admiring,  without  apply- 
ing anything  to  himself.  '  Balzac,'  said  the  Abbe,  '  is 
like  a  man  who,  standing  before  a  superb  mirror  which 
shows  him  a  stain  on  his  face,  should  content  himself  with 
admiring  the  beauty  of  the  mirror,  without  removing  the 
stain.'  Balzac  was  delighted  more  than  ever  with  this, 
and  still  forgetting  the  practical  lesson  altogether,  in  his 
attention  to  the  pertinence  of  the  illustration,  cried  in  a 
yet  louder  tone,  '  Ah,  this  is  more  admirable  than  all  the 
rest.'  "  ' 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit,"  says  Solo- 
mon, "there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool  than  of  him."  When 
a  man  is  destitute  of  knowledge,  and  feels  himself  to  be 
so,  he  can  be  approached  by  a  teacher,  and  instruction  can 
be  imparted.  But  when  it  is  the  thought  of  his  heart 
that  he  comprehends  the  whole  subject,  and  that  no  one 
can  teach  him,  the  prospect  of  his  becoming  enlightened  is 
liopeless.     Precisely  so  is  it  in  regard  to  the  practical  ap- 

'  Bungener :  Preacher  and  King,  38,  39. 


PRIDE  VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.        279 

plication  of  divine  truth.  He  who  listens  to  the  teach- 
ing of  the  sanctuary,  with  the  notion  or  imagination  that 
he  has  completed  the  work  of  applying  it  to  himself^  and 
therefore  hears  merely  for  others,  or  for  merely  intellect- 
ual improvement,  is  in  a  most  unfavorable  position  to  re- 
ceive salutary  impressions.  This  is  the  hazard  that  accom- 
panies a  steady  attendance  upon  public  worship,  without 
faith,  repentance,  and  a  Christian  profession.  The  mind 
of  such  a  person  becomes  filled  with  the  doctrines  of  the 
gospel,  and  they  command  his  unhesitating  assent.  They 
are  so  true  for  his  intellect,  that  he  never  thinks  of  disput- 
ing them.  And,  at  the  same  time,  he  never  thinks  of  ap- 
plying them  to  himself  practically.  There  is  a  species  of 
mental  pride,  a  pride  of  knowledge,  perhaps  a  pride  of 
orthodoxy,  that  hinders  him  from  listening  with  a  tender 
conscience,  and  a  meek  and  lowly  heart.  Perhaps  it  would 
be  better,  if  such  a  hearer  might,  for  a  time,  be  brought  into 
skeptical  conflict  with  the  truth.  Perhaps  there  might  be 
more  hope  of  his  conversion,  if,  instead  of  this  cold  and  un- 
disturbed assent  to  the  Christian  sj'stem  which  is  accom- 
panied with  so  much  self-complacency,  and  so  little  self- 
application,  there  might  rush  in  upon  him  some  of  those 
obstinate  questionings  that  would  destroy  his  ease  of  mind, 
and  bring  him  into  serious  collision  with  the  law  and  truth 
of  God.  He  might  then,  perhaps,  realize  that  the  Word 
of  God  is  the  most  practical,  because  it  is  the  most  truth- 
ful and  searching,  of  all  books ;  that  there  is  not  a  teach- 
ing in  it  that  does  not  have  a  bearing  upon  the  most  mo- 
mentous interests  of  the  human  soul ;  and  that  the  question 
which  every  man  should  put  to  himself,  whenever  he  reads 
it,  and  whenever  he  listens  to  it,  is  the  question  :  "  What 
is  it  to  r^ie  ?     What  shall  /  do  in  reference  to  it  ?  " 

Thus  have  we  seen,  that  "  If  any  man  think  that  he 
knoweth  anything,  he  knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to 


280        PEIDE   VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE. 

know  " — that  pride  vitiates  our  knowledge  of  religious 
truth,  in  respect  to  its  quantity,  its  quality,  and  its  practi- 
cality. 

That  is  a  very  instructive  chapter  in  the  Old  Testament 
history  which  records  the  punishment  that  came  upon 
David,  because  he  numbered  the  people.  We  are  not  in- 
formed, by  the  sacred  historian,  what  was  the  particular 
wickedness  of  which  the  king  of  Israel  was  guilty,  in  this 
instance.  It  was  not  the  mere  taking  of  a  census.  Moses 
had  twice  numbered  the  people,  without  any  rebuke  from 
God ;  and  upon  the  face  of  the  transaction,  there  does  not 
seem  to  lie  any  harm.  It  was  well,  that  the  ruler  of  a 
kingdom  should  know  the  number  of  his  army ;  it  was  well, 
that  the  shepherd  of  Israel  should  count  up  his  flock. 
The  most  probable  explanation  is,  that  the  monarch  took 
this  census  of  his  kingdom  from  pride,  as  Ilezekiah  showed 
the  treasures  of  his  palace  to  the  ambassadors  of  the  king 
of  Babylon.  Therefore  God  punished  him.  It  is  the 
same  spirit  that  numbers  up  spiritual  attainments,  and  the 
same  disapprobation  of  God  attends  it.  What  is  the  moral 
difference  between  showing  the  heathen  king  the  silver, 
and  the  gold,  and  the  spices,  and  the  precious  ointment,  in 
order  to  make  an  impression  upon  him  for  purposes  of 
self-aggrandizement,  and  showing  to  one's  own  self,  or  to 
others,  the  mental  treasures,  for  purposes  of  pride  and 
vanity  ?  What  is  the  difference  in  the  motive,  between 
David's  boastful  counting  up  of  his  men  of  war,  and  the 
Christian's  boastful  counting  np  of  his  knowledge,  his 
graces,  and  his  good  deeds? 

1.  In  deducing,  therefore,  the  lessons  which  this  subject 
suggests,  we  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  spiritual  pride 
is  the  most  suhtle  of  sins.  "  Now  the  serpent  was  more 
subtle  than  any  beast  of  the  field  which  the  Lord  God  had 
made."     The  species  of  sin  which  is  rebuked  in  the  text, 


PEIDE  VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.        281 

and  which  we  have  been  considering,  does  not  approacli 
the  Christian  from  the  outside.  It  does  not  issue  from 
flesh  and  sense,  but  from  the  intellect  itself.  It  is  the  sin 
of  Lucifer,  the  Son  of  the  Morning.  That  archangel  was 
not  tempted  to  revolt  against  the  authority  and  govern- 
ment of  the  Most  High,  by  the  low  and  flesh-born  solicita- 
tions which  are  continually  assailing  the  sons  of  men.  His 
substance  was  incorporeal,  and  his  nature  ethereal.  The 
five  senses,  which  are  the  avenues  through  which  many 
enticements  to  sin  approach  the  children  of  Adam,  formed 
no  part  of  his  constitution.  He  fell  from  a  purely  intel- 
lectual temptation,  and  his  wickedness  was  what  the  apos- 
tle denominates  '■'•spiritual  wickedness."  The  sin  of  pride, 
to  which  the  believer  is  liable,  is  a  sin  of  the  same  species 
whereby  the  angels  fell.  In  wrestling  against  it,  we 
"  wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  princi- 
palities, £\gainst  poM'ers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness 
of  this  world,  against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places." 
(Eph.  vi.  12.)  There  is  every  reason  to  believe,  that  when 
the  child  of  God  becomes  sinfully  self-conscious,  and  ego- 
tistic ;  when  he  ceases  to  be  an  actor,  and  converts  himself 
into  a  spectator ;  when  he  reviews  his  conduct  with  self- 
complacency,  and  is  puffed  up  with  knowledge,  instead  of 
built  up  with  charity ;  when  he  thinks  more  highly  of 
himself  than  he  ought  to  think ;  he  is  particularly  the 
victim  of  the  wiles  of  Satan,  that  Old  Serpent,  that  subt- 
lest of  the  creatures  of  God.  When  other  artifices  fail ; 
when  the  believer  proves  to  be  on  his  guard  against  the 
more  common  and  outward  temptations  of  earth;  then 
the  Arch  Deceiver  plies  him  with  one  that  is  purely  men- 
tal, and  spiritual.  He  fills  him  with  the  conceit  of  holi- 
ness, and  the  conceit  of  knowledge.  This  puffs  him  up, 
and  leads  him  to  commit  that  great  sin  which  is  condemned 
in  the  declaration  of  God,  through  the  prophet  Isaiah :  "  I 


282        PRIDE  VITIATES  RELIGIOIJS   KNOWLEDGE. 

am  Jehovah,  that  is  mj  name,  and  my  glorj  I  will  not 
give  to  another."  Under  the  impulse  of  this  temptation, 
the  creature  defrauds  the  Creator  of  the  glory  which  is 
his  due,  and  comes  short  of  the  chief  end  of  his  own  crea- 
tion. Spiritual  pride  is  thus  the  last  resort  of  the  Tempter, 
and  whoever  is  enabled  by  divine  grace  to  foil  him  at  this 
point,  will  foil  him  at  all  points.  "  That  which  first  over- 
comes man,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  is  the  last  thing  man 
overcomes."  The  pride  by  which  the  angels  fell,  and 
which  was  the  principal  quality  in  the  Adamic  transgres- 
sion, lingers  longest  and  latest  in  the  experience  of  the 
Christian.  "Some  sins,"  remarks  an  old  divine,  "may 
die  before  us,  but  this  hath  life  in  it  as  long  as  we.  It  is, 
as  it  were,  the  heart  of  all  other  sins  ;  the  first  to  live,  and 
the  last  to  die.  And  it  hath  this  advantage,  that  whereas 
other  sins  are  fomented  by  one  another,  this  feeds  even  on 
virtues  and  graces,  as  a  moth  that  breeds  in  them,  and 
consumes  them,  even  in  the  finest  of  them,  if  it  be  not 
carefully  looked  into.  This  hydra,  as  one  head  of  it  is 
cut  off,  another  rises  up ;  it  will  secretly  cleave  to  the  best 
actions,  and  prey  upon  them.  And  therefore  is  there  so 
much  need  that  we  continually  watch,  and  fight,  and  pray 
against  it ;  and  be  restless  in  the  pursuit  of  real  and  deep 
humiliation — to  be  nothing,  and  desire  to  be  nothing  ;  not 
only  to  bear,  but  to  love  our  own  abasement,  and  the 
things  that  procure  and  help  it."  ' 


'  Leighton :  On  1  Pet.  v.  5.  The  same  testimony  respecting  the  na- 
ture of  spiritual  pride  is  borne  by  Ricliard  Baxter.  "  For  my  part,  when 
I  consider  the  great  measure  of  pride,  self-conceitedness,  self-esteem, 
that  is  in  the  greater  part  of  Christians  that  ever  I  was  acquainted  with 
— we  of  the  ministry  not  excepted — I  wonder  that  God  doth  not  afflict 
ns  more,  and  bring  us  down  by  foul  means,  that  will  not  be  brought 
down  by  fair.     For  my  own  part,  I  have  bad  as  great  means  to  help  me 


PKIDE   VITIATES   RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.        283 

2.  And  this  carries  us  to  the  second  lesson  suggested  by 
the  subject,  which  is,  that  spiritual  pride  especially  requires 
the  aid  and  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  overcome  it. 
No  spirit  is  a  match  for  the  subtlety  of  Satan  but  the 
Eternal  Spirit.  When  the  mystery  of  iniquity  worketh  ; 
when  "  that  Wicked  is  revealed  whose  coming  is  after  the 
working  of  Satan,  with  all  power,  and  signs,  and  lying 
wonders,  and  with  all  deceivableness  of  unrighteousness;" 
St.  Paul  tells  us  that  "  the  Lord  shall  consume  him  with 
the  Spirit  of  his  mouth,  and  shall  destroy  him  with  the 
brightness  of  his  coming,"  (2  Thess.  ii.  7-10.)  The  be- 
liever will  fall  a  victim  to  these  arts  of  the  Deceiver,  un- 
less he  is  both  enlightened  and  empowered.  His  very 
virtues  and  graces  themselves  are,  oftentimes,  the  egg  out 
of  which  spiritual  pride  is  hatched.  With  Cowper  he  can 
say: 

"  When  I  would  speak  what  thou  hast  done 
To  save  me  from  my  sin, 
I  can  not  make  thy  mercies  known, 
But  self-applause  creeps  in." 


against  this  sin  as  most  men  living  ever  had ;  first,  in  many  years' 
trouble  of  mind,  and  then  in  near  twenty  years'  languishing  and  bodily 
pains,  having  been  almost  twenty  years  at  the  grave's  mouth,  and  living 
near  it  continually  ;  and  lastly  and  above  all,  I  have  had  as  full  a  sight 
of  it  in  others,  even  in  the  generality  of  the  professors,  and  in  the  dole- 
ful state  of  the  Church  and  State,  and  heinous,  detestable  abominations 
of  this  age,  which  one  would  think  should  have  fully  cured  it.  And 
yet,  if  I  hear  but  either  an  applauding  word  from  any  of  fame  on  one 
side,  or  a  disparaging  word  on  the  other  side,  I  am  fain  to  watch  my 
heart  as  narrowly  as  I  would  do  the  thatch  of  my  house  when  fire  is  put 
to  it,  and  presently  to  throw  on  it  the  water  of  detestation,  resolution, 
and  recourse  to  God.  And  though  the  acts  through  God's  great  mercy 
be  thus  restrained,  yet  the  constancy  of  these  inclinations  assures  me 
that  there  is  still  a  strong  and  deep  root. "  Baxter  :  The  Right  Method 
for  Spiritual  Peace  and  Comfort. 


284        PEIDE  VITIATES  RELIGIOITS  KNOWLEDGE. 

The  believer,  therefore,  needs  to  have  that  singleness  of 
eye  which  is  never  dazzled  with  any  of  the  flatteries  of 
either  his  own  heart,  or  of  Satan  himself.  He  needs  to 
have  his  whole  body  full  of  that  heavenly  light  which  will 
chase  out  every  lingering  remnant  of  darkness,  and  of 
egotism.  And  who  but  the  unerring  Spirit  of  God  is  the 
author  of  such  a  spiritual  illumination  as  this  ?  The  dis- 
courses of  our  Lord  are  full  of  solemn  injunctions  to  be 
single-eyed,  single-minded,  and  not  to  let  the  left  hand 
know  what  the  right  hand  doeth.  Simplicity  and  godly 
sincerity,  he  continually  emphasizes  ;  and  these  are  the  ex- 
act contraries  of  self-deception  and  pride.  But  who  can 
attain  to  this,  as  a  steady  and  spontaneous  habit  and  frame 
of  soul,  without  the  teaching  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  And 
by  that  teaching  it  can  be  attained.  There  is  a  power  in 
God,  the  Creator  of  the  human  soul,  and  the  Searcher  of 
the  human  heart,  to  produce  within  it  a  guileless  simplicity 
— that  beautiful  trait  which  Christ  saw  and  praised  in 
Nathanael,  when  he  said :  "  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in 
whom  there  is  no  guile."  It  is  that  holiness  which  is  so 
simple,  childlike,  and  ingenuous,  that  it  is  unconscious  of 
itself.  It  is  that  divine  knowledge  which  is  so  pure,  and 
deep,  that  it  never  reviews  itself,  and  never  inflates  in  the 
least.  It  is  that  mental  absorption  in  God  and  divine 
things,  of  which  the  Old  Mystics  say  so  much,  whereby  the 
will  of  the  creature  and  the  intellect  of  the  creature  are  so 
completely  subject  to  those  of  the  Creator,  that  the  differ- 
ence between  them  cannot  be  distinguished  in  the  religious 
experience.  It  is  that  union  with  Christ  which  is  so  inti- 
mate and  central,  that  the  instant  the  believer  says  with 
St.  Paul,  "  I  live,"  he  is  obliged  with  him  to  add  imme- 
diately, "yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me."  Such  a 
union  as  this,  resulting  in  the  extinction  of  self-assertion 


PEIDE  VITIATES   EELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.        285 

and  vainglory,  is  the  product  of  the  Holy  Spirit  work- 
ing in  us  to  will,  to  feel,  to  think,  and  to  act.  It  results 
from  walking  in  the  Spirit,  and  praying  in  the  Spirit 5 
yea,  praying  that  prayer  of  which  the  apostle  remarks: 
"  The  Spirit  helpeth  our  infirmities ;  for  we  know  not 
what  to  pray  for  as  we  ought ;  but  the  Spirit  itself  mak- 
eth  intercession  for  us,  with  groanings  which  cannot  be 
uttered." 


SERMON  XIX. 

CONNECTION  BETWEEN  FAITH  AND  WORKS. 


James  ii.  24. — "Ye  see  then  how  that  by  works  a  man  is  justified, 
and  not  by  faith  only." 


This  affirmation  of  the  inspired  apostle  James  seems  to 
flatly  contradict  that  famous  assertion  of  the  inspired  apos- 
tle Paul  which  is  so  often  quoted,  as  containing  the  pith 
and  substance  of  the  evangelical  system.  St.  Paul,  in  his 
Epistle  to  the  Romans,  after  proving  that  all  mankind  are 
guilty  before  the  law,  and  consequently  cannot  be  acquit- 
ted by  it,  draws  the  inference  :  "  Therefore,  we  conclude 
that  a  man  is  justified  by  faith  without  the  deeds  of  the 
law."  (Rom.  iii.  28.)  This  doctrine  has  come  down  from 
age  to  age,  as  the  cardinal  truth  of  Christianity.  The 
Church  has  been  pure  or  corrupt,  according  as  it  has 
adopted  or  rejected  it.  Protestant  as  distinguished  from 
Papal  Christianity  rests  upon  it  as  its  proof  text.  Men 
are  evangelical  or  legal,  according  as  they  receive  or  reject 
it.  And  yet  St.  James,  in  the  text,  affirms  distinctly  and 
positively,  that  "  by  works  a  man  is  justified,  and  not  by 
faith  only." 

There  is  certainly  a  verbal  contradiction  between  these 
two  apostles.  Should  these  two  isolated  passages  of  Script- 
ure be  read  to  an  inhabitant  of  Saturn  ;  should  they  be 


FAITH   AND   WOEKS.  287 

taken  out  of  their  connections,  and  be  made  known  to  any- 
one who  was  utterly  unacquainted  with  the  Scriptures  as 
a  whole ;  should  they  be  found,  like  some  old  Greek  or 
Sanskrit  inscription,  cut  into  a  marble  tablet,  with  nothing 
going  before  them  to  explain,  or  following  after  to  illus- 
trate, their  meaning,  thej  must  undoubtedly  be  set  down 
as  conflicting  with  each  other.  The  words  in  the  one 
statement  contradict  the  words  in  the  other. 

But  a  verbal  contradiction  is  not  necessarily  a  real  con- 
tradiction. Inconsistency  in  words  is  compatible  with 
consistency  in  ideas.  In  order  to  charge  a  contradiction 
in  the  thought,  or  doctrine,  we  must  evince  something 
more  than  a  contradiction  in  the  language.  The  letter 
sometimes  kills  the  sense,  but  the  spirit  makes  it  alive.  It 
is  the  ulterior  meaning,  which  must  be  gathered  from  the 
intention  of  the  writer  as  seen  in  other  parts  of  his  dis- 
course, and  especially  from  the  immediate  context,  that 
must  interpret  the  phraseology.  Human  language  is  an 
imperfect  instrument  to  express  so  subtle  a  thing  as 
thought.  Hence  we  shall  find  that,  oftentimes,  it  labors 
under  the  idea  or  truth  which  is  sought  to  be  conveyed  by 
it,  and  this  laboring  appears  in  a  verbal  contradiction. 
Some  of  the  very  highest  truths,  owing  to  the  poverty  of 
human  language,  can  be  expressed  only  in  phraseology 
that  involves  an  utter  inconsistency  if  taken  according  to 
the  mere  letter.  Consider,  for  example,  the  schoolman's 
definition  of  the  Divine  omnipresence.  "  God,"  he  said, 
"  is  a  circle  whose  circumference  is  everywhere,  and  its 
centre  nowhere."  This  diction  is  utterly  self-contradictory. 
Read  it  to  a  mere  mathematician,  who  should  have  no 
inkling  of  the  great  truth  that  was  sought  to  be  conveyed 
by  it ;  who  should  look  at  it  as  a  purely  verbal  and  mathe- 
matical statement;  and  he  would  tell  you  that  there  is  and 
can  be  no  circle  whose  centre  is  nowhere,  and  its  circum- 


288  CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

ference  everywhere,  and  that  the  terms  of  such  a  proposi- 
tion are  absurd.  And  yet  it  is  one  of  the  best  definitions 
that  have  been  given  of  the  omnipresence  of  God.  It  im- 
presses the  inscrutable  immensity  of  the  Deity,  the  mys- 
terious boundlessness  of  his  being,  upon  the  mind,  in  a 
very  vivid  and  striking  manner.  And  it  is  the  impression 
made,  which  is  the  truth  and  fact  in  the  case.  Take, 
again,  the  famous  statement,  that  "  the  soul  is  all  in  every 
part  of  the  body."  The  purpose  of  this  verbal  contradic- 
tion is,  to  show  that  the  immaterial  spirit  of  man  cannot 
be  localized  in  a  section  of  space.  The  soul  of  a  man  is 
not  seated  in  the  hand,  or  in  the  foot ;  in  the  heart,  or 
in  the  head.  It  is  not  contained  and  confined  in  any  one 
part  of  the  human  body,  for  it  causes  the  movements  of 
every  part.  It  thinks  through  the  brain  ;  it  feels  through 
the  nerves ;  and  it  lifts  weights  through  the  hand.  It  ex- 
ists, therefore,  in  one  part  as  much  as  in  another ;  and 
therefore  no  one  organ  can  be  asserted  to  be  its  sole  local- 
ity, and  residence.  And  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  would 
not  be  correct  to  say  that  the  soul  is  diffused  through  the 
whole  body,  and  has  exactly  the  same  form  and  figure  as 
the  body.  The  soul  has  no  extended  form,  or  figure  ;  as  it 
would  have  if  it  were  spread  out  through  the  whole  ma- 
terial structure.  It  is  not  correct  to  say  that  a  part  of  the 
soul  is  in  the  head,  and  another  part  is  in  the  foot,  and 
another  part  is  in  the  hand.  The  soul  cannot  be  subdi- 
vided and  distributed  in  this  manner.  The  whole  soul  is 
in  the  hand,  when  the  hand  is  lifted  up ;  and  in  the  foot, 
when  the  foot  is  set  down.  The  whole  soul,  the  entire 
conscious  ego,  is  in  each  nerve,  and  at  every  point  of  it, 
when  it  thrills ;  and  in  each  muscle,  and  at  every  point  of 
it,  when  it  contracts.  And  to  express  these  truths  and 
facts,  so  mysterious  and  yet  so  real  and  true,  the  philos- 
opher invented  the  verbal  contradiction,  that  "  the  soul  is 


FAITH  AND   WOEKS.  289 

all  in  every  part  of  the  body."  And  the  same  use  of  lan- 
guage meets  us  in  everyday  life,  as  well  as  in  the  specula- 
tions of  the  philosopher.  When,  for  instance,  you  are 
mourning  the  loss  of  a  beloved  friend,  and  you  wish  to 
convey  the  truth,  that  his  death  was  gain  to  him  but  loss 
to  you,  you  say,  in  concise  and  pointed,  yet  verbally  con- 
tradictory phrase  :  "  It  is  the  survivor  that  dies."  When, 
again,  you  desire  to  express  the  truth,  that  indiscriminate 
praise  is  worthless ;  that  a  critic  who  pronounces  every- 
thing presented  for  his  judgment  to  be  good  and  excellent, 
deserves  no  regard ;  you  do  it  in  the  sententious,  but  ver- 
bally contradictory  proverb  :  "  He  who  praises  everybody, 
praises  nobody."  Again,  would  you  express  the  truth 
which  Solomon  conveys  in  his  question  :  "  Hast  thou  found 
honey  ?  eat  so  much  as  is  sufficient  for  thee,  lest  thou  be 
filled  therewith,  and  vomit  it,"  you  do  it  in  the  homely 
verbal  contradiction :  "  Too  much  of  a  good  thing,  is  good 
for  nothing."  These  examples  might  be  multiplied  indefi- 
nitely. The  proverbs  of  a  nation — which  are  the  con- 
densed and  pointed  sense  of  the  people,  the  truest  of 
truths — are  very  often  couched  in  phraseology  that,  if 
taken  in  a  literal  signification,  is  absurd. 

Before  we  conclude,  therefore,  that  two  writers  are  in 
conflict  with  each  other,  we  must  first  determine  their  gen- 
eral aim  and  purpose,  and  interpret  particular  individual 
statements  accordingly.  Two  questions  always  arise,  in  this 
comparison  of  one  author  with  another.  First,  are  they 
looking  at  the  same  thing ;  and,  secondly,  if  so,  do  they 
occupy  the  same  point  of  view.  The  perspective  point  is 
everything,  in  judging  of  the  correctness  of  a  picture. 
And  this  is  specially  true  of  religious  objects,  and  truths. 
The  spiritual  world  is  so  comprehensive  and  vast,  that  no 
observer  can  see  the  whole  of  it  at  once,  and  from  a  single 
point  of  vision.  He  must  pass  from  point  to  point,  and 
13 


290  CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

obtain  view  after  view.  He  must  walk  about  Zion,  before 
he  can  tell  the  towers  thereof.  It  is  because  of  the  in- 
finitude of  divine  truth,  that  there  are  so  many  apparent 
contradictions — so  many  "  paradoxes,"  as  Lord  Bacon  de- 
nominates them — in  the  Christian  system.  It  is  for  this 
reason,  that  there  are  more  verbal  contradictions  in  the  Bible 
than  in  any  other  book.  In  one  place  we  read :  "  Answer 
a  fool  according  to  his  folly";  and  at  another :  "Answer 
not  a  fool  according  to  his  folly."  Upon  one  page  we  are 
told  that,  "  Whosoever  is  born  of  God  doth  not  commit 
sin " ;  upon  another  that,  "  If  we  say  we  have  no  sin, 
we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us."  These 
propositions  are  verbally  contradictory,  and  yet  when  read 
in  their  connections,  and  explained  in  the  light  of  the  gen- 
eral drift  of  Scripture,  they  convey  the  highest  truth  in 
the  most  striking  and  impressive  manner.  The  several 
authors  of  the  inspired  volume  look  at  the  great  system  of 
religious  truth  from  many  points  of  view,  and  each  sees 
and  depicts  a  different  side  of  it.  And  he  is  the  wise  man 
who,  instead  of  employing  the  microscopic  vision  of  a  fly 
crawling  over  a  cornice,  or  some  small  ornament  of  the 
great  temple  of  truth,  is  able  to  survey  with  the  eye  of  an 
architect  all  their  individual  representations,  and  to  com- 
bine them  into  one  grand  and  all-comprehending  scheme. 

These  remarks  prepare  us  to  consider  the  verbal  con- 
tradiction between  the  apostles  Paul  and  James,  and  to 
determine  whether  it  is  a  real  and  irreconcilable  one.  The 
two  waiters  are  contemplating  the  same  thing — the  sinner's 
justification  before  God.  Paul  asserts  that  "a  man  is 
justified  by  faith,  without  the  works  of  the  law" — that  is, 
by  faith  only.  James  affirms  that  "  by  works  a  man  is 
justified,  and  not  by  faith  only."  Both  are  speaking  of  the 
sinner's  justification  ;  but  not  to  the  same  class  of  j>ersons, 
and,  therefore,  not  from  the  same  point  of  view.     One  is 


FAITH  AND   WORKS.  291 

arguing  against  sincere  legalists,  and  the  other  against 
hypocritical  believers.  This  explains,  and  harmonizes,  the 
difference  between  them. 

I.  St.  Paul  is  addressing  legalists — a  class  of  errorists 
who  maintained  that  man's  works  of  morality  are  the 
ground  of  his  justification ;  are  a  satisfaction  of  the  law 
for  past  transgressions,  and  entitle  him  to  the  rewards  of 
the  future  life.  The  religionist  of  this  class  makes  the 
same  use  of  his  own  virtues,  acts,  and  merits,  that  the 
evangelical  believer  makes  of  the  blood  and  righteous- 
ness of  Christ.  He  rests  in  them  for  justification  and  ac- 
ceptance before  God.  Now  to  this  class  of  persons,  the 
apostle  Paul  says:  "By  the  works  of  the  law,  shall  no 
flesh  be  justified ;  by  the  deeds  of  the  law,  there  shall 
no  flesh  be  justified  ;  a  man  is  justified  by  faith,  without 
the  deeds  of  the  law."  (Gal.  ii.  16 ;  Kom.  iii.  20,  28.)  It 
was  with  reference  to  their  particular  opinion,  that  a  man's 
own  works  could  atone  for  sin  and  merit  heaven,  that  the 
apostle  asserts  that  man's  works  are  worthless  and  useless. 
Standing  upon  this  position,  and  addressing  moralists  and 
legalists,  he  could  say  without  any  qualification,  that  a 
sinner  is  justified  by  mere  and  simple  faith  in  Christ's  vi- 
carious sacrifice,  without  the  addition  to  it,  or  combination 
with  it,  of  any  of  his  own  works,  good  or  bad.  The  ex- 
piatory work  of  Christ  is  in  and  of  itself  a  complete  satis- 
faction, and  there  is  no  need  of  completing  the  complete. 
There  is  no  need  of  gilding  refined  gold,  or  painting  the 
lily.  There  is  no  need,  even  if  it  could  be  done,  of  sup- 
plementing or  perfecting  the  Divine  provision  for  the 
forgiveness  of  sin,  by  a  human  agency.  The  oblation  of 
Christ  is  suflScient,  alone,  and  by  itself,  to  satisfy  the 
broken  law ;  and  he  who  trusts  in  it  as  the  sole  ground  and 
reason  of  pardon,  need  not  bring  with  him  a  single  jot  or 
tittle  of  his  own  work.     And  when  any  sinner  begins  to 


292  CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

look  around  for  something  wherewith  to  appear  before  the 
awful  Eternal  Justice,  and  answer  its  demands,  he  discov- 
ers the  worthlessness  of  even  the  best  of  human  works. 
There  is  nothing  expiatory  in  human  virtue.  There  is  no 
judicial  suffering  in  it.  Good  works  do  not  bleed ;  and 
"  without  the  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission." 
To  attempt,  therefore,  to  expiate  sin  by  performing  good 
works,  is  not  an  adaptation  of  means  to  ends.  It  is  like 
attempting  to  quench  thirst,  by  eating  bread.  Bread  is 
necessary  to  human  life  considered  as  a  whole,  but  it  can- 
not slake  thirst.  So  too,  good  works  are  necessary  to  hu- 
man salvation  taken  as  a  whole,  but  they  cannot  accom- 
plish that  particular  part  of  human  salvation  which  consists 
in  satisfying  the  law  for  past  transgressions.  Without 
personal  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord,  and  yet  no 
amount  of  personal  holiness  can  wash  out  the  stain  of 
guilt.  All  this,  which  tallies  exactly  with  St.  Paul's  dec- 
laration, is  understood  by  the  sinner,  the  instant  he  sees 
guilt  and  atonement  in  their  mutual  relations.  While  he 
perceives  very  clearly,  that  in  reference  to  other  points, 
and  other  purposes,  Christian  character  is  indispensable, 
and  good  works  must  be  performed,  yet  having  respect  to 
the  one  single,  momentous  particular  of  deliverance  from 
the  penalty  of  the  law,  he  very  clearly  perceives  that  good 
works  are  good  for  nothing.  They  cannot  enter  into  the 
account,  for  purposes  of  justification,  even  in  part.  The 
atonement  for  sin  is  not  partly  the  death  of  Christ,  and 
partly  the  merits  of  the  sinner.  It  is  the  death  of  Christ 
alone,  without  any  works  of  the  law.  "I  feel" — says 
Chalmers — "that  the  righteousness  of  Christ  unmixed 
with  baser  materials,  untempered  with  strange  mortar,  un- 
vitiated  by  human  pretensions  of  any  sort,  is  the  solid 
resting-place  on  which  a  man  is  to  lay  his  acceptance  be- 
fore God,  and  that  there  is  no  other ;  that  to  attempt  a  com- 


FAITH   AND   WOKKS.  293 

position  between  grace  and  works  is  to  spoil  both,  and  is 
to  deal  a  blow  both  to  the  character  of  God,  and  to  the  cause 
of  practical  holiness."  '  Such  is  the  doctrine  of  the  apostle 
Paul  respecting  justiiication,  as  enunciated  from  his  point 
of  view,  and  having  reference  to  the  moralist  and  legalist. 
II.  We  are  now,  in  the  second  place,  to  examine  the  doc- 
trine of  the  apostle  James,  upon  the  same  subject,  as 
stated  from  his  point  of  view,  and  with  reference  to  a 
wholly  different  class  of  persons.  For,  the  errorists  whom 
St.  James  was  combating  were  hypocritical  helievers,  and 
not  sincere  legalists.  They  did  not  deny  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith.  They  did  not,  like  the  moralist 
whom  St.  Paul  opposed,  affirm  that  man  could  be  justified 
by  the  works  of  the  law,  either  wholly  or  in  part.  On  the 
contrary,  they  were  orthodox  in  theory,  evangelical  in 
phraseology,  and  profuse  in  their  declarations  that  works 
were  useless,  and  that  nothing  but  faith  could  save  the 
soul.  This  is  evident  from  the  course  of  the  apostle's 
reasoning  with  them.  "  What  doth  it  profit,  my  brethren, 
though  a  man  say  [pretend]  he  hath  faith,  and  have  not 
works  ?  Can  [such]  faith  save  him  ?  If  a  brother  or  sister 
be  naked,  and  destitute  of  daily  food,  and  one  of  you  say 
unto  them.  Depart  in  peace,  be  you  warmed  and  filled  : 
notwithstanding  ye  give  them  not  those  things  which  are 
needful  to  the  body :  What  doth  it  profit  ?  Even  so  faith, 
if  it  hath  not  works  is  dead,  being  alone."  This  reasoning 
implies,  that  the  opponents  of  the  apostle  James  were  not 
in  the  least  tinctured  with  the  Judaistic  theory  of  justifica- 
tion by  works,  but  were  using  the  evangelical  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith  in  such  a  way  as  to  abuse  it.  They 
were  not  zealous  sticklers  for  the  law,  but  hypocritical  and 
false  professors  of  the  gospel. 

'  Chalmers'  Memoirs,  II.  190. 


294  ,        CONNECTION  BETWEEN 

Accordingly,  St.  James  combats,  not  St.  Paul's  time 
faith,  but  the  spurious  faith  of  these  errorists.  He  attacks 
what  he  denominates  "  dead  faith."  Probably  there  is  an 
allusion  here  to  St.  Paul's  use  of  the  word,  when  he  speaks 
of  "  dead  works,"  and  of  being  "  dead  to  the  law."  James 
tells  these  hypocrites,  who  are  boasting  of  their  faith,  and 
making  it  the  cloak  of  licentiousness,  that  as  there  is  a 
dead  work,  spoken  of  by  St.  Paul,  so  there  is  a  dead  faith, 
such  as  they  are  professing ;  and  neither  the  dead  work 
nor  the  dead  faith  can  save  the  soul.  The  class  of  errorists 
whom  he  opposes  "5a^<^"  they  had  faith.  They  pretended 
to  trust  in  the  person  and  work  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  but 
they  had  never  been  truly  convicted  of  sin,  had  never  felt 
godly  sorrow,  and  had  never  exercised  an  evangelical 
peace-giving  confidence  in  atoning  blood.  They  were  hyp- 
ocrites. Their  faith,  in  James's  phraseology,  was  "  alone." 
It  had  no  connection  with  works.  It  was  not  an  active  and 
operative  principle  in  the  heart,  but  the  mere  breath  on 
their  lips.  It  was  a  counterfeit,  and  not  the  genuine  thing 
of  which  St.  Paul  speaks.  !Now,  in  disparaging  such  a 
hypocritical  non-working  faith  as  this,  and  affirming  that 
it  could  not  justify  a  sinner,  St.  James  is  not  disparaging 
sincere  and  true  faith,  and  falls  into  no  real  contradiction 
with  St.  Paul.  Standing  upon  the  position  of  James,  and 
called  to  address  the  same  class  of  persons,  Paul  would 
have  spoken  in  the  same  manner.  He  would  have  plainly 
told  hypocritical  men  who  were  professing  an  inoperative 
and  spurious  faith,  and  making  it  an  opiate  for  their  con- 
science, and  a  cloak  for  licentiousness  ;  who  were  saying  to 
the  naked  and  destitute  Christian  brother,  "Depart  in 
peace,  be  thou  warmed  and  filled,"  but  were  doing  nothing 
for  his  relief — he  would  have  plainly  and  solemnly  told 
them  that  such  faith  could  not  save  them.  He  would  have 
asked  the  same  question  with  James :   "  What  doth  it 


FAITH   AND   WOEKS.  295 

profit,  though  a  man  say  he  hath  faith,  and  have  not 
works ;  can  faith  [that  has  not  works]  save  him  ?  "  Tliere 
would  have  been  no  danger  of  legalism,  or  of  misconception ; 
for  they  would  have  understood  that  by  "  faith,"  he  meant 
their  faith — their  non-working  and  hypocritical  profession.' 
And  standing  upon  the  position  of  Paul,  and  called  to  ad- 
dress an  altogether  different  class  of  errorists,  who  expected 
to  atone  for  sin  by  their  own  works  and  merit,  the  apostle 
James,  with  his  Old  Testament  conceptions  of  law  and  ex- 
piation, and  his  stern  uncompromising  view  of  sin  as  guilt, 
would  have  spoken  of  a  living  and  true  faith  in  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  Lamb  of  God — "  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Lord  of  glory,"  as  he  affectionately  and  reverently  calls 
him — as  the  only  act  whereby  a  sinner  can  be  delivered 
from  his  guilt,  and  the  curse  of  the  violated  law. 

There  are  two  proofs  of  this  latter  assertion,  to  which 
we  direct  attention  for  a  moment.  In  the  first  place,  the 
apostles  James  and  Paul  both  alike  accepted  that  state- 
ment of  the  essential  principles  of  the  gospel  which  was 
formulated  in  the  Apostolic  convention.  In  the  fifteenth 
chapter  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  there  is  an  account  of 
an  assembly  of  the  apostles  and  elders,  to  discuss  the  ques- 
tion in  dispute  between  the  converted  Jews  and  the  con- 
verted Gentiles,  whether  obedience  to  the  Mosaic  law  was 
necessary  in  order  to  salvation,  or  whether  a  simple  faith 
in  the  person  and  work  of  Christ  was  sufficient.  The  de- 
cision was  unanimous,  that  faith  in  Christ  was  the  only 
essential  requisite.  This  decision  was  sent  out  in  a  letter 
to  all  the  churches,  and  has  gone  down  from  century  to 
century,  as  an  inspired  declaration  of  the  real  nature  of 

'  In  the  original  (James  ii.  14),  the  hypocrisy  of  the  faith  is  indicated 
by  the  presence  of  the  article  in  one  instance,  and  its  absence  in  the 
other.  The  hypocrite  says  that  he  has  faith— ir/o-Tii/  anarthrous ;  the 
apostle  asks  if  r\  tt/o-tij — this  kind  of  faith — can  save  him. 


296  CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

Christianity.  James  advocated,  in  the  convention,  the 
same  views  with  Peter  and  the  other  apostles,  and  lent 
the  weight  of  his  authority  and  influence,  in  favor  of 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  without  the  works 
of  the  law. 

In  the  second  place,  there  is  proof  in  this  very  Epistle, 
which  St.  James  addresses  to  "  the  twelve  Jewish  tribes 
which  are  scattered  abroad,"  that  he  considered  faith,  and 
not  works,  to  be  the  cardinal  truth  of  Christianity.  In 
the  course  of  the  discussion,  the  supposition  is  made,  that 
faith  and  works  can  be  separated,  and  exist  the  one  with- 
out the  other :  "  Yea,  a  man  may  say.  Thou  hast  faith, 
and  I  have  works."  (James  ii.  18.)  The  apostle,  in  his 
answer  to  this,  so  shapes  his  statement,  as  not  only  to  deny 
the  possibility  of  any  such  divorce  between  the  two,  but 
also  to  show  that  he  considered  faith  to  be  the  root 
and  principle,  and  works  only  the  fruit  and  evidence, 
of  justification.  For  although  he  is  laying  a  very  strong 
emphasis  upon  works,  yet  he  does  not  say,  in  reply 
to  this  supposition  that  faith  and  works  can  be  sepa- 
rated :  "  Shew  me  thy  faith  without  any  works,  and  I  will 
shew  thee  my  works  without  any  faith."  But  his  answer 
is  one  that  Paul  himself  would  have  given  in  a  similar 
case  :  "  Shew  me  thy  faith  without  thy  works  " — a  thing 
that  is  impossible — "  and  I  will  show  thee  my  faith  hy  my 
works."  The  implication  of  this  answer  is,  not  only  that 
true  and  living  faith  cannot  exist  without  showing  itself  in 
good  works,  but  that  good  works  are  secondary  to  faith,  as 
being  its  effect  and  evidence.  Works  are  not  the  root,  but 
the  branches.  And  in  dealing  with  a  legalist,  we  can 
easily  imagine  St.  James  to  accommodate  the  language  of 
St.  Paul,  used  in  another  connection :  "  Boast  not  of  the 
branches.  But  if  thou  boast,  remember  that  the  branches 
bear  not  the  root,  but  the  root  bears  the  branches.     Boast 


FAITH   AND   WORKS.  297 

not  of  your  works ;  but  if  jou  boast,  remember  that  works 
do  not  produce  faith,  but  faith  produces  works." 

The  doctrine  of  St.  James,  then,  to  say  it  in  a  word,  is, 
that  a  man  is  justified  by  a  working  faith.  In  some  pas- 
sages of  his  Epistle,  "  works  "  signifies  "  true  faith."  The 
text  is  one  of  them  ;  and  it  might  be  read  :  "  Ye  see,  then, 
how  that  by  a  working  faith  a  man  is  justified,  and  not  by 
a  faith  that  has  not  works."  In  order  to  present,  strongly 
and  impressively,  the  truth  at  which  he  was  aiming,  he 
resorts  to  a  well-known  rhetorical  figure,  and  puts  the 
effect  for  the  cause — the  works  of  faith,  for  faith  itself. 
"  Works "  stand  for  "  working  faith,"  when  he  asserts 
that  "Abraham  was  justified  by  works,  when  he  had  of- 
fered up  Isaac  his  son  ;"  and  that  "  Kahab  was  justified 
by  works,  when  she  sent  the  messengers  out  another  way." 
In  these  instances,  the  term  "  works  "  denotes  the  genuine 
faith  that  works,  in  contradistinction  to  the  spurious  faith 
that  does  not  work.  Dead  faith  has  no  energy,  and  no 
work  in  it.  Living  faith  is  full  of  energy,  and  full  of 
work  ;  and  therefore,  by  the  metonymy  of  effect  for  cause, 
may  be  denominated  "  work  " — as  Christ  so  calls  it,  when 
he  says :  "  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye  believe  on 
him  whom  he  hath  sent."  (John  vi.  29.)  This  also  ex- 
plains the  meaning  of  St.  James,  when  he  says,  that 
"  Abraham's  faith  wrought  with  his  works,  and  by  works 
was  faith  made  perfect."  Abraham's  act  of  obedience  to 
the  Divine  command  to  sacrifice  his  son,  was  a  work  that 
proved  beyond  all  doubt  that  his  faith  was  sincere  and 
"  perfect,"  and  not  spurious  and  hypocritical.  This  "  work," 
therefore,  might  well  stand  for,  and  represent,  the  mighty 
"  faith  "  that  produced  it.  In  saying  that  Abraham  and 
Eahab  were  "  justified  by  works,"  St.  James  is  conceiving 
of,  and  describing  faith  as  an  active  and  working  jprincijyle^ 
like  that  which  St.  Paul  has  in  mind,  when  he  speaks  of 
13* 


298  CONNECTION   BETWEEN 

"  faith  which  worketh  bj  love "  (Gal.  v.  6) ;  when  he 
thanks  the  Thessalonians  for  their  "  work  of  faith  "  (1 
Thess.  1.  3) ;  and  when  he  urges  Titus  to  preach  in  such  a 
manner,  that  "  they  which  have  believed  in  God  might  be 
careful  to  maintain  good  works  "  (Titus  iii.  8).  The  con- 
tradiction between  the  two  apostles  is,  therefore,  verbal 
only,  and  not  real.  Both  hold  the  same  evangelical  doc- 
trine.' 

This  exhibition  of  the  agreement  between  Paul  and 
James  leads  us  to  notice,  in  closing,  the  importance  of 
guarding  the  doctrine  of  gratuitous  justification  against 
abuse,  by  showing  the  natural  and  necessary  connection 
between  it  and  sanctification.  St.  James,  in  his  day,  found 
a  class  of  persons  in  the  church  who  made  Christ  a  min- 
ister of  sin,  and  who  "  sinned,"  knowingly  and  wantonly, 
"  that  grace  might  abound."  Because  the  blood  of  Christ 
cleanseth  from  all  sin,  they  inferred  that  they  might  indulge 
in  sin.  If  they  stained  themselves,  it  was  easy  to  wash 
the  stain  out.  Because  good  works  could  not  avail,  either 
wholly  or  in  part,  to  atone  for  transgression,  therefore  they 
need  not  perform  them  for  any  purpose  whatever.  The 
righteousness  of  Christ  was  suflficient  for  their  justification, 
and  therefore  they  need  not  follow  after  holiness,  or  seek  in- 
ward sanctification.  In  this  way,  they  abused  the  grace  of 
God,  and  converted  that  truth  which  is  a  savor  of  life  unto 
life,  into  a  savor  of  death  unto  death.   It  is  often  remarked, 


*  The  Westminster  Confession,  XI.  ii.,  admirably  sums  up  the  whole 
truth,  in  the  following  proposition :  "  Faith  is  the  alone  instrument  of 
justification  ;  yet  it  is  not  alone  in  the  person  justified,  but  is  ever  ac- 
companied with  other  saving  graces."  The  first  half  of  this  proposition 
contains  St.  Paul's  statement,  that  "  a  man  is  justified  by  faith  without 
the  deeds  of  the  law  ;  "  and  the  second  half  of  it  contains  St.  James's 
statement,  that  "faith,  if  it  hath  not  works  is  dead,  being  alone."  To 
say  that  a  man  is  justified  by  "  faith  alone,"  is  not  the  same  as  to  say 
that  he  is  justified  by  *'  faith  that  is  alone." 


FAITH   AND   WOEKS.  299 

that  the  greatest  of  blessings  when  perverted  becomes  the 
greatest  of  evils.  And  so  it  is  with  the  doctrine  of  gratui- 
tous justification.  If  any  man  makes  use  of  it  as  an 
opiate  to  his  conscience,  and  a  means  of  indulging  himself 
in  sin,  or  ease  in  Zion,  he  becomes  fearfully  selfish,  and 
fearfully  hardened.  He  treads  the  atoning  blood  under 
foot.  There  is  evidence  in  the  Epistle  of  James,  that  those 
who  were  thus  maltreating  the  gospel,  and  abusing  the 
doctrine  of  free  grace  in  Christ,  were  very  far  gone  in 
earthliness  and  sin.  The  kind  of  sins  which  the  apostle 
rebukes,  and  the  style  in  which  lie  does  it,  evince  this. 
He  severely  reproves  them  for  their  regard  for  human  dis- 
tinctions, in  exalting  the  man  with  a  gold  ring  and  goodly 
apparel,  and  humbling  the  poor  man  in  vile  raiment ;  for 
their  reckless  use  of  the  tongue,  in  slandering  and  boast- 
ing ;  for  their  grasping  after  office  and  authority,  in  en- 
deavoring to  be  "  many  masters  ; "  for  their  quarrelling, 
envying,  and  even  "  fightings " — moving  the  apostle  to 
address  them  sternly :  "  Ye  adulterers  and  adulteresses, 
know  ye  not  that  the  friendship  of  the  world  is  enmity 
with  God  ?  "  for  their  inordinate  avarice,  which  led  them 
to  "  keep  back  the  hire  of  the  laborer  by  fraud,  and  to 
heap  up  treasure  for  the  last  days ;  "  for  their  sensuality, 
in  "  living  in  pleasure  and  wantonness  on  the  earth,  and 
nourishing  their  hearts  as  in  day  of  slaughter."  (James  ii. 
1-9  ;  iii.  1-v.  6.)  These  sins,  thus  specified  and  rebuked, 
seem  to  have  crept  into  the  Jewish-Christian  churches  to 
whom  St.  James  addressed  his  Epistle ;  for  there  is  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  would  have  thus  particularized 
them,  had  they  not  been  in  existence.  And  they  are  ag- 
gravated transgressions.  It  was  no  ordinary  corruption 
that  had  come  into  these  scattered  churches,  by  the  abuse 
of  the  doctrine  of  free  grace. 

Human  nature  is  the  same  now  that  it  was  then  ;  and  it 


300  CONNECTION  BETWEEN 

becomes  necessary,  therefore,  for  the  believer  to  guard 
against  even  the  slightest  tendency  to  live  at  ease  in  the 
Churchjbecause  the  Church  is  not  under  law  but  under  grace. 
If  the  blood  of  Christ  is  a  complete  atonement  for  our  sin, 
this  is  a  reason  why  we  should  resist  unto  blood  striving 
against  sin,  and  not  a  reason  why  we  should  supinely  yield 
to  sin.  If  there  is  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in 
Christ  Jesus,  this  is  a  reason  why  we  should  dread  to  incur 
any  new  condemnation,  and  not  a  reason  why  we  should 
add  to  the  already  immense  debt  which  Christ  has  assumed 
for  us. 

The  effectual  preservative  against  such  a  tendency  as 
this,  is  to  remember  the  wholesome  doctrine  of  St.  James, 
that  a  man  is  not  justified  by  a  dead  faith,  but  by  a  work- 
ing faith.  A  dead  faith  has  no  justifying  efficacy,  be- 
cause, as  St.  Paul  remarks  of  a  heathen  idol,  "  it  is  nothing 
in  the  world."  It  is  a  nonentity.  A  dead  faith — a  faith 
that  does  nothing,  and  produces  nothing — is  nothing.  It 
is  a  pretence.  It  is  sheer  hypocrisy.  It  can  no  more  save 
the  soul,  than  sin  can  save  it. 

Try  yourself,  then,  by  this  test.  Does  your  faith  in 
Christ's  atonement  worli,  f  When  you  have  trusted  in  the 
blood  and  righteousness  of  Christ  for  acceptance  with  the 
holy  God,  do  you  find  that  this  reliance  of  your  heart  then 
goes  out  into  acts  ?  Does  it  go  out  in  love,  peace,  joy, 
long-suffering,  meekness,  hope  ?  These  are  internal  acts 
of  the  mind  and  heart ;  and  they  are  the  fruit,  and  evidences 
of  faith.  Does  it  go  out  in  external  acts — in  prayer,  praise, 
labor  for  the  good  of  souls,  discharge  of  the  various  duties 
of  a  Christian  profession  ?  If  this  is  your  happy  case, 
yours  is  a  working  faith,  and  a  justifying  faith.  Notice 
that  these  works — this  peace,  joy,  hope,  prayer,  praise, 
Christian  benevolence,  and  discharge  of  duty — are  not  the 
ground  and  reason  of  your  justification,  but  only  the  effect 


FAITH   AND   WOKKS.  301 

and  fruits  of  it.  You  are  accepted  of  God,  and  acquitted 
by  him,  solely  and  simply  because  you  confide  in  Christ's 
death  for  sin.  You  are  justified  by  this  one  act  of  faith  in 
Christ's  atonement,  apart  from  any  of  these  resulting 
works.  And  being  thus  justified,  you  then  act  out  your 
faith  in  and  by  these  works — internal  and  external.  There 
is  no  legality  in  your  experience,  and  yet  you  keep  the 
law  with  great  particularity.  While  you  do  not  look  to 
the  law  in  the  least  for  justification,  you  nevertheless 
magnify  and  honor  the  law  by  your  obedience  to  its  re- 
quirements. You  do  not  obey  the  law  in  order  to  obtain 
the  forgiveness  of  your  sins.  They  are  already  forgiven 
for  Christ's  sake.  That  part  of  your  salvation  is  secure. 
But  you  obey  the  law  because  you  are  forgiven  ;  because 
you  love  to  obey  ;  and  because  it  is  the  command  of  God 
to  obey.  You  obey  it  because  your  faith  in  Christ's  blood 
is  living,  and  not  dead  ;  is  working  faith,  and  not  in- 
operative faith  ;  is  sincere  faith,  and  not  hypocritical  faith 
— the  genuine  principle  which  St.  Paul  praises  and  de- 
fends, and  not  the  counterfeit  which  St.  James  condemns 
and  attacks. 


SERMON  XX. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  IMPERFECT,  YET  A  SAINT. 


COLOSSIANS  iii.  12. — '*  Put  on,  therefore,  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and 
beloved,  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness,  humbleness  of  mind,  meekness, 
long-suffering." 


It  appears  singular  to  the  reader  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles, 
that  the  apostle  in  one  passage  speaks  of  Christians  as 
perfect,  and  in  another  as  imperfect.  At  one  time,  he 
describes  them  in  terms  that  would  lead  us  to  infer  that 
they  are  holy  as  God  is  holy  ;  and  at  another,  he  speaks  of 
them  as  full  of  sin  and  corruption.  In  the  text,  he  de- 
nominates them  "  the  elect  of  God  holy  and  beloved,"  and 
yet  immediately  proceeds  to  exhort  them  to  the  possession 
and  practice  of  the  most  common  Christian  graces — such 
as  humility  and  forgiveness.  In  a  preceding  paragraph, 
he  tells  the  Colossians  that  they  "  are  dead  to  sin,  and  their 
life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,"  and  then  goes  on  to  urge 
them  to  overcome  some  of  the  most  gross  sins  in  the  whole 
catalogue — "  mortify,  therefore,  your  members  which  are 
upon  the  earth  ;  fornication,  uncleanness,  inordinate  affec- 
tion, evil  concupiscence,  and  covetousness  which  is  idola- 
try." (Coloss.  iii.  3-5.) 

This  characteristic  is  very  strikingly  exhibited  in  St. 
Paul's  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians.  We  know  from  both  of 
the  letters  which  he  wrote  to  this  church,  that  there  was 


THE   CHRISTIAN  IMPERFECT,  YET  A   SAINT.      303 

much  corruption  within  it.  Planted  in  the  midst  of  one 
of  the  most  vicious  cities  of  the  pagan  world,  the  converts 
to  Christianity  had  been  drawn  forth  from  a  very  unclean 
paganism,  and  after  their  conversion  they  were  exposed  to 
the  strongest  temptations.  Some  of  their  number  yielded  to 
them.  The  apostle  calls  upon  the  Corinthian  church  to  dis- 
cipline one  of  its  members  for  incest ;  he  rebukes  them  for 
their  shameful  abuse  of  the  Lord's  Supper ;  for  their  party 
spirit,  and  jealousies,  that  led  them  to  take  sides  with  men — 
with  Paul,  and  Apollos,  and  Cephas  ;  and  for  the  bicker- 
ings and  litigations  that  arrayed  Christian  against  Chris- 
tian, even  in  the  courts  of  the  idolatrous  pagan.  And  yet, 
in  the  opening  of  his  first  Epistle,  St.  Paul  addresses  such 
a  church  as  this,  in  the  following  terms :  "  I  thank  my 
God  always  on  your  behalf,  for  the  grace  of  God  which  is 
given  you  by  Jesus  Christ ;  that  in  everything  ye  are  en- 
riched by  him,  in  all  utterance,  and  in  all  knowledge  ;  even 
as  the  testimony  of  Christ  was  confirmed  in  you  ;  so  that 
ye  come  behind  in  no  gift ;  waiting  for  the  coming  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  who  shall  also  confirm  you  unto  the 
end,  that  ye  may  be  blameless  in  the  day  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  (1  Cor.  i.  4-8.) 

How  are  we  to  explain  such  opposite  representations  ? 
Is  the  Christian  "  holy  and  beloved,"  and  yet  at  the  same 
time  vile  and  polluted  ?  Is  he  "  dead  to  sin  and  his  life 
hid  with  Christ  in  God,"  and  also  a  wretched  man  "  tied 
to  the  body  of  this  death,"  and  crying  out,  "  Who  shall 
deliver  me  ? "  Can  he  say  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Preserve 
me,  O  ray  God,  for  I  am  holy,"  and  with  Isaiah,  "  I  am  un- 
done, I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips  ? "  Does  St.  Paul  cor- 
rectly describe  the  experience  of  a  renewed  man,  both 
when  he  utters  himself  in  the  confident  phrase :  "  I  live, 
yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me ; "  and  when  he  expresses 
his  anxieties  in  the  afiirmation,  that  he   struggles  daily 


304  THE   CHRISTIAN  IMPERFECT, 

with  indwelling  corruption,  and  "  keeps  his  body  under, 
lest  he  should  be  a  cast-away  from  God  ?  "  It  is  even  so. 
This  is  one  of  the  paradoxes  of  Christianity,  as  Lord  Bacon 
calls  them.  "  A  Christian,"  he  says,  "  is  one  that  believes 
things  his  reason  cannot  comprehend,  and  hopes  for  things 
which  neither  he  nor  any  man  alive  ever  saw  ;  he  believes 
three  to  be  one,  and  one  to  be  three,  a  father  not  to  be 
older  than  his  son,  and  a  son  to  be  equal  with  his  father ; 
he  believes  himself  to  be  precious  in  God's  sight,  and  yet 
loathes  himself  in  his  own ;  he  dares  not  justify  himself 
even  in  those  things  wherein  he  can  find  no  fault  with  him- 
self, and  yet  believes  that  God  accepts  him  in  those  ser- 
vices wherein  he  is  able  to  find  many  faults ;  he  is  so 
ashamed  as  that  he  dares  not  open  his  mouth  before  God, 
and  yet  he  comes  with  boldness  to  God,  and  asks  him  any- 
thing he  needs  ;  he  hath  within  him  both  flesh  and  spirit, 
yet  he  is  not  a  double-minded  man;  he  is  of  ten  led  captive 
by  the  law  of  sin,  yet,  it  never  gets  dominion  over  him ; 
he  cannot  sin,  yet  can  do  nothing  without  sin ;  he  is  so 
humble  as  to  acknowledge  himself  to  deserve  nothing  but 
evil ;  and  yet  he  believes  that  God  means  him  all  good." 
These  are  contradictions  to  the  carnal  mind.  These  things 
are  foolishness  to  the  Greek.  Richard  Porson,  one  of  the 
most  learned  classical  scholars  that  England  ever  saw,  and  a 
profound  admirer  of  Lord  Bacon,  tells  his  reader  that  he 
knows  not  what  to  make  of  this  list  of  paradoxes,  and 
actually  raises  the  query,  whether  Lord  Bacon  might  not 
have  been  laboring  under  a  momentary  fit  of  skepticism, 
at  the  time  he  penned  them.  This  "  specification  of  the 
characteristics  of  a  believing  Christian,"  by  the  most  so- 
ber and  sagacious  of  English  philosophers  and  statesmen, 
which  the  believing  Christian  cannot  peruse  without  pro- 
found admiration  at  the  depth  of  its  evangelical  insight, 
and  tender  emotion  for  the  comfort  it  gives  him — this  de- 


YET  A  SAINT.  305 

lineation  of  the  inmost  heart  of  the  gospel,  and  of  the 
Christian  experience,  actually  raised  doubts  in  the  mind  of 
a  learned  man  of  this  world,  whether  Bacon  of  Yerularn 
was  not  the  subject  of  a  lurking  skepticism  !  "We  preach 
Christ  crucified,  unto  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and 
unto  the  Greeks  foolishness."  (1  Cor.  i.  23.) 

These  paradoxes  are  not  self-contradictions.  The  decla- 
ration :  "  When  I  am  weak,  then  I  am  strong,"  does  not 
afiirm  and  deny  the  same  thing.  It  affirms  that  when  the 
sinful  and  helpless  man  feels  and  confesses  his  utter  impo- 
tence, then  the  holy  and  almighty  God  comes  to  his  rescue 
and  salvation.  The  affirmation  that  the  Christian  "  be- 
lieves himself  to  be  precious  in  God's  sight,  yet  loathes 
himself  in  his  own  ;  that  he  is  often  led  captive  by  sin,  yet 
it  does  not  get  dominion  over  him;"  is  self -consistent  and 
true,  because  one  side  of  the  proposition  does  not  conflict 
with  the  other  side.  Verbally  contradictory  it  is  logically 
harmonious. 

In  the  light  of  these  remarks,  let  us  proceed  to  explain 
how  it  is,  that  the  apostle  Paul  can  address  a  very  imper- 
fect church  like  the  Colossian,  with  the  title  of  "  holy  and 
beloved  ;  "  and  why  the  Word  of  God  calls  an  imperfectly 
sanctified  believer  a  "  saint  ?  " 

The  reason  why  a  believer  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  al- 
though struggling  with  sin  here  on  earth,  is  designated  by 
the  very  same  term  employed  to  describe  the  pure  and 
perfect  spirits  in  heaven,  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  is  a  new 
creature.  "  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature  ; 
old  things  have  passed  away,  and  all  things  have  become 
new."  If  a  man's  moral  nature  has  undergone  a  radical 
change,  it  is  proper  to  speak  of  him  with  reference  to  such 
a  transformation,  and  to  employ  language  that  in  another 
connection  and  reference  would  be  both  strange  and  un- 
true.    Suppose,  for  illustration,  that  the  genius  of  John 


306  THE   CHRISTIAN   IMPERFECT, 

Milton,  by  the  miraculous  power  of  God,  should  have  been 
converted  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  age  into  the  genius  of 
Isaac  Newton.  Suppose  that  the  poetical  nature  of  the 
author  of  the  Paradise  Lost,  should  have  been  transformed 
into  the  scientific  nature  of  the  author  of  the  Principia,  at 
an  early  period  in  life,  before  the  maturity  of  the  mental 
powers  had  arrived.  In  this  case,  would  it  not  be  correct 
and  proper  to  employ  concerning  this  "  new  man  "  within 
the  man  Milton,  this  new  basis  for  thought  and  investiga- 
tion, all  the  phraseology  which  we  now  apply  to  Sir  Isaac 
Newton  ?  Though  only  four  years  old,  and  though  the 
relics  of  the  old  poetical  nature  might  be  still  lingering  in 
him,  like  fragments  of  rich  crimson  tapestry  in  an  old 
royal  palace,  still  we  could  say  of  this  youthful  convert 
from  poetry  to  science,  that  he  was  a  perfect  mathemati- 
cian ;  that  the  law  of  gravitation  was  within  his  ken  ;  that 
the  theorems  of  the  Principia  were  all  scored  in  his  young 
brain.  That  which  is  inlaid  in  man  by  the  power  of  God 
is  destined  to  a  development ;  and  the  unfolding  cannot  be 
thwarted.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  we  may  describe  a 
morally  renewed  man,  in  the  very  opening  of  his  career, 
by  terms  and  phraseology  derived  from  the  close  of  it. 
We  may  call  him  a  "  perfect "  man,  because  he  is  destined 
to  become  such.  We  may  call  him  a  "  saint,"  because  God 
has  elected  him  to  be  one,  and  will  carry  out  his  purpose. 
We  may  call  him  a  citizen  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  on 
high,  because  a  principle  of  holiness  has  been  implanted 
within  him  that  will  bring  him  there. 

Such  application  of  language  is  spontaneous  and  natural 
to  us,  in  daily  life.  Whenever  we  discover  an  inward 
basis  for  a  particular  result,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  speak  of 
the  result  as  if  it  had  already  occurred.  You  see,  for  il- 
lustration, a  man  lying  upon  a  bed  in  a  hospital,  and  are 
told  that  he  is  sick  with  pulmonary  consumption.     The 


YET  A   SAINT.  307 

hollow  cheek,  the  hectic  flush,  the  emaciated  flesh,  the 
gasping  inspiration,  all  show  that  the  man  is  in  the  last 
stages  of  that  terrible  disease  concerning  which  Machia- 
velli  remarks,  that  "  in  the  beginning  it  is  easy  to  cure  but 
difficult  to  understand,  but  in  the  end,  is  easy  to  under- 
stand and  difficult  to  cure."  '  As  you  look  upon  him,  you 
say  to  yourself  :  "  He  is  a  dead  man."  You  spontaneously 
anticipate  the  natural  result.  The  breath  of  life  is  still  in 
him.  He  looks  into  your  eyes  with  the  glance  of  human 
intelligence.  He  is  not  cold  and  silent  in  death.  He 
speaks  to  you,  and  you  to  him.  Yet  you  say :  "  He  is  a 
dead  man."  There  is  a  basis  for  death  in  him.  The  prin- 
ciple of  mortality,  the  power  of  death,  is  within  him,  and 
you  merely  ante-date,  by  a  few  days,  weeks  or  months,  its 
inevitable  consequences  and  results. 

The  Scriptures  reason  in  the  same  manner,  concerning 
the  state  and  condition  of  the  unrenewed  man.  They  call 
him  dead,  long  before  his  body  actually  dies,  and  long  be- 
fore his  soul  feels  the  pangs  of  the  second  death.  Though 
the  sinner  is  apparently  happy  and  well,  engaged  in  the 
business  and  pleasures  of  earth,  the  blood  coursing  vividly 
in  his  veins,  and  his  spirits  bounding  and  free,  yet  the 
solemn  and  truthful  Word  of  God  describes  him  in  terms 
that  are  borrowed  from  the  dust  and  crumble  of  the  tomb. 
They  never  regard  him,  or  call  him,  a  living  man.  "  Awake, 
O  sleeper,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  life,"  is  the  startling 
tone  in  which  they  speak  to  the  impenitent  man  of  busi- 
ness, and  man  of  pleasure.  Christ  everywhere  represents 
it  as  his  mission,  to  impart  life.  The  Son  of  man  is  lifted 
up  upon  the  atoning  cross,  "  that  whosoever  believeth  in 
him  should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life.  He  that  be- 
lieveth not  the  Son  shall  not  see  life.  Except  ye  eat  the 
flesh  of  the  Son  of  man,  and  drink  his  blood,  ye  have  no 

»  Machiavelli :  The  Prince,  Cli.  III. 


308  THE   CHRISTIAN   IMPERFECT, 

life  in  you.  If  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all  dead." 
This  is  the  view  which  the  Scriptures  take  of  every  unre- 
generate  man,  because  they  perceive  in  him  a  principle  of 
sin,  and  spiritual  disease,  that  will  just  as  surely  develop 
into  the  death  and  woe  of  hell,  as  the  principle  of  physical 
disease  will  expand  and  unfold  into  the  pangs  and  dissolu- 
tion of  the  body.  As  in  the  instance  of  the  renewed  man, 
the  Scriptures  ante-date  the  natural  and  certain  conse- 
quences of  the  new  birth,  and  anticipate  the  natural  and 
certain  results  of  the  new  principle  of  spiritual  life,  and  de- 
nominate the  Christian  a  saint,  holy  and  beloved,  long 
before  he  reaches  the  heavenly  world,  and  long  before  he 
attains  to  sinless  perfection,  so  upon  the  same  principle, 
they  ante-date  the  sure  and  unfailing  development  of  sin 
in  the  natural  man,  and,  long  before  he  actually  enters  the 
sad  world  of  woe,  speak  of  him  as  dead  and  lost.  On  the 
side  of  sin,  as  well  as  on  the  side  of  holiness,  it  is  natural 
and  proper  to  see  the  fruit  in  the  seed,  and  to  attribute  to 
the  little  seed,  all  the  properties  and  qualities  of  the  ripe 
and  perfected  fruit.  "  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  also 
shall  he  reap." 

Let  us  now  consider  some  of  the  lessons,  that  are  taught 
by  the  fact  that  God  denominates  his  imperfectly  sancti- 
fied people,  "  holy  and  beloved,"  the  "  saints  of  the  Most 
High  God." 

I.  The  first  lesson  to  be  derived  from  this  subject  is, 
that  the  child  of  God  should  not  be  ducouraged  because  he 
discovers  indwelling  sin,  and  imperfection,  within  himself. 
A  believer  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ought  never  to  be  dis- 
couraged. He  ought  to  be  humble,  watchful,  nay,  some- 
times fearful,  but  never  despondent,  or  despairing.  David, 
Paul,  and  the  Colossian  church  were  imperfect.  But  they 
were  new  men  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  they  are  now  perfectly 
holy  and  happy  in  heaven. 


YET  A  SAINT.  309 

The  duty  of  the  Christian  is,  to  assure  himself  upon 
scriptural  grounds  of  his  regeneration,  and  then  to  "  work 
out  his  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  because  it  is 
God  that  worketh  in  him  to  will  and  to  do."  The  fact 
that  he  is  a  new  creature,  if  established,  is  a  proof  that 
God  is  helping  him  in  the  struggle  with  indwelling  sin ; 
and  when  God  helps,  victory  is  sure  in  the  end.  Believers 
are  commanded  to  "  examine  themselves,"  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  seeing  whether  they  are  perfectly  sanctified, 
but  "whether  they  be  in  the  faith."  We  may  make  our 
self-examination  minister  to  our  discom-agement,  and  hin- 
drance in  the  Christian  race,  if,  instead  of  instituting  it  for 
the  purpose  of  discovering  whether  we  have  a  penitent 
spirit,  and  do  cordially  accept  Christ  as  our  righteousness, 
we  enter  upon  it  for  the  purpose  of  discovering  if  we  are 
entirely  free  from  corruption.  Remainders  of  the  old 
fallen  nature  may  exist  in  connection  with  true  faith  in 
Christ,  and  a  new  heart.  Paul  bemoans  himself,  saying  : 
"  The  good  which  I  would  I  do  not ;  but  the  evil  which  I 
would  not  that  I  do."  But  Paul  was  certain  that  he 
trusted  in  the  blood  of  Christ  for  the  remission  of  sin ; 
that  he  was  a  new  man  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  influenced 
by  totally  different  motives  from  those  that  actuated  him 
when  he  persecuted  the  Church  of  Christ ;  that  he  loved 
Christ  more  than  the  whole  universe,  and  "  counted  all 
things  but  dung  that  he  might  win  Christ,"  and  become  a 
perfect  creature  in  him. 

The  .first  and  chief  thing,  therefore,  which  the  Christian 
should  have  in  his  eye,  in  all  his  self-examination,  is,  to 
determine  upon  scriptural  grounds  whether  he  is  a  renewed 
man.  The  evidences  of  regeneration  are  plain,  and  plainly 
stated.  We  have  already  hinted  at  them.  A  sense  of 
guilt  and  cordial  acceptance  of  Christ's  atonement,  a  desire 
to  be  justified  by  his  precious  blood,  a  peaceful  confidence 


310  THE   CHEISTIAN   IMPERFECT, 

in  God's  righteousness  and  method  of  justifying  a  sinner — 
this  is  the  first  and  infallible  token  of  a  new  heart,  and  a 
right  spirit.  Then,  secondly,  a  weariness  of  sin,  "  a  groan- 
ing, being  burdened  "  under  its  lingering  presence  and  re- 
maining power,  a  growing  desire  to  be  entirely  delivered 
from  it,  and  a  purer  simpler  hungering  after  holiness — 
these  are  the  other  evidences  of  regeneration.  Search 
yourselves  to  see  whether  these  things  be  in  you,  and  if 
you  find  them  really,  though  it  may  be  faintly  and  feebly, 
in  your  experience,  do  not  be  discouraged  because  along 
with  them  you  discover  remaining  corruption.  Remember 
that  as  a  man  struck  with  death  is  a  dead  man,  so  a  soul 
that  has  been  quickened  into  life  is  a  living  soul,  even 
though  the  remnants  of  disease  still  hang  about  it  and 
upon  it.  The  "  new  man  "  in  Christ  Jesus  will  eventually 
slay  stone-dead  the  "old  man"  of  sin.  The  "strong 
man  "  has  entered  into  the  house,  and  bound  the  occupant 
hand  and  foot,  and  he  will  in  time  "  spoil  his  house." 

The  truth  that  God  will  carry  forward  his  work  in  the 
renewed  soul,  and  that  the  principle  of  piety  implanted  by 
Divine  grace  will  develop  to  perfection,  may  indeed  be 
abused  by  the  false  Christian ;  but  this  is  no  reason  why 
the  genuine  child  of  God  should  not  use  it  for  his  en- 
couragement, and  progress  in  this  divine  life.  One  of  the 
evidences  of  regeneration,  however,  if  considered,  will  pre- 
vent all  misuse  of  the  doctrine  of  the  saint's  perseverance. 
A  "  groaning,  being  burdened  "  by  the  remaining  presence 
of  sin,  is  a  sign  of  being  a  new  creature.  How  can  a  man 
have  this  grief  and  sadness  of  heart  at  the  sight  of  his  in- 
dwelling corruption,  and  at  the  same  time  roll  sin  as  a 
sweet  morsel  under  the  tongue  ?  How  shall  one,  whose 
great  burden  it  is,  that  he  is  tied  to  the  body  of  sin  and 
death,  proceed  to  make  that  burden  heavier  and  heavier, 
by  a  life  of  ease,  indifference  and  worldliness  ?     "  How 


YET  A   SAINT.  311 

shall  we  that  are  dead  to  sin  live  any  longer  therein  ?  " 
No,  my  brother,  if  you  really  groan,  being  burdened  be- 
cause you  are  still  so  worldly,  so  proud,  so  selfish,  so  sinful, 
you  are  a  new  creature.  You  never  did  this  in  the  days 
of  your  impenitency.  You  were  "  alive  without  the  law," 
then.  You  did  not  feel  the  heavy,  weary,  weight  pressing 
down  upon  you.  You  did  not  say  with  the  Psalmist,  as 
you  now  do :  "  My  sin  is  ever  before  me."  This  very  im- 
perfection which  you  now  painfully  feel,  is  the  very  evi- 
dence that  you  are  on  the  way  to  perfection ;  it  is  the  sign 
that  there  is  a  new  principle  of  holiness  implanted  in  your 
soul,  one  of  whose  effects  is  this  very  consciousness  of  re- 
maining corruption,  and  one  of  whose  glorious  results  will 
be  the  final  and  eternal  eradication  of  it,  when  the  soul 
leaves  the  body  and  enters  paradise. 

II.  The  second  lesson  taught  by  the  subject,  is  the  duty 
of  the  Christian  to  cultivate  the  new  nature,  and  develop 
the  new  principle  of  holiness. 

"  Put  on,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and 
beloved,  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness,  humbleness  of  mind, 
meekness,  long-suffering."  By  this,  it  is  not  to  be  under- 
stood, that  mercifulness,  kindness,  humility,  meekness,  and 
patience,  are  graces  that  are  to  be  originated  by  the  Chris- 
tian, and  added  to  his  character  by  his  own  agency.  These 
are  traits  that  belong  intrinsically  to  the  "new  man"  in 
Christ  Jesus.  These  are  qualities  that  issue  from  the 
"  new  heart,"  and  the  "  right  spirit,"  which  the  regenerat- 
ing power  of  God  has  originated.  To  "  put  them  on," 
therefore,  is  to  put  them  forth  ;  to  elicit  them  ;  to  draw 
them  out  from  within,  and  exhibit  them  in  daily  life. 
They  are  all  contained  germinally  in  the  regenerate  mind  ; 
and  the  particular  duty  which  is  devolved  upon  the  believer 
is  that  of  training  them. 

Do  you  ask,  How  ?     We  answer :  By  taking  every  oc- 


312  THE   CHEISTIAN   IMPERFECT, 

casion  to  exercise  them.  One  of  the  graces  is  "  kindness  " 
— a  gentle,  affectionate,  benevolent  feeling  towards  every 
fellow-creature.  Every  opportunity  that  you  seize  to  give 
expression  to  such  a  sentiment,  elicits  what  is  within  you ; 
it  draws  upon  the  reserve  and  strength  of  your  religious 
character  in  that  particular  direction,  and  trains  it.  Why 
is  it  that  these  "  bowels  of  mercies,"  as  St.  Paul  phrases 
it ;  this  yearning  compassion  for  the  human  soul ;  is  so 
striking  a  characteristic  of  devoted  teachers  in  church 
schools  and  mission  schools,  in  home  and  foreign  mission- 
aries, and  in  all  that  class  of  Christians  who  are  engaged 
in  personal  efforts  for  the  salvation  of  men  ?  It  is  because 
they  "  put  on "  this  particular  grace,  by  exerting  it  in 
daily  life.  Strain  day  after  day  upon  a  particular  muscle, 
and  it  will  begin  to  swell  and  rise  above  the  flesh.  You 
do  not  create  the  muscle  by  this  effort,  but  you  stimulate 
and  strengthen  it. 

There  is  too  much  Christian  character  lying  dormant, 
and  latent,  because  there  is  so  much  neglect  of  self-culture 
in  the  Church.  We  have  no  confidence  in  the  attempt  to 
cultivate  an  unrenewed  man  into  piety.  He  must  be  boiTi 
again,  in  order  that  there  may  be  something  to  cultivate 
— something  to  educate,  to  elicit,  in  St.  Paul's  phrase,  to 
"  put  on."  But  we  have  great  confidence  in  the  endeavor 
to  cultivate  a  really  renewed  man.  When  a  new  heart  has 
been  formed,  a  new  character  has  been  produced,  a  new 
principle  of  religious  life  has  been  implanted  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  then  no  process  is  more  successful  and  beautiful 
than  the  process  of  cultivation.  It  is  like  cultivating  a 
garden  full  of  living  things.  Every  prudent  use  of  the 
pruning-knife ;  every  ministry  of  earth,  air,  water,  and  nour- 
ishment ;  contributes  to  elicit  the  vital  powers  and  princi- 
ples. Just  so  it  is  in  the  garden  of  the  Lord.  If  Chris- 
tians were  only  as  diligent  in  self-cultivation  as  many  an 


YET  A  SAINT.  313 

ambitious  student  is,  nay,  as  many  an  ascetic  papist  or  pa- 
gan devotee  is,  their  growth  would  surprise  even  them- 
selves. The  secular  scholar  shuts  himself  from  business 
and  pleasure  ;  he  "  scorns  delights,  and  lives  laborious 
days;"  in  order  that  he  may  gain  renown,  and  "leave 
something  so  written  to  after-times  as  men  will  not  will- 
ingly let  die."  Suppose  that  every  professing  Christian 
should  devote  himself  with  an  equal  assiduity,  to  the 
training  of  his  own  soul  in  divine  knowledge  and  piety. 
Suppose  that,  like  the  scholar,  he  should  make  business 
and  pleasure  second  and  subservient  to  the  one  ruling 
principle  of  his  mind  and  heart.  Would  not  that  princi- 
ple— and  he  has  professed  before  angels  and  men,  that  it 
is  the  principle  of  faith  in  Christ's  blood — be  as  power- 
fully stimulated,  and  as  vigorously  elicited,  as  is  the  prin- 
ciple of  literary  ambition  in  the  ardent  and  toiling  stu- 
dent ? 

Suppose,  again,  that  every  member  of  the  Christian 
Church  should  spend  as  many  hours  in  prayer,  as  many  a 
Papist  or  Mohammedan  does  in  his  daily  devotions,  would 
not  the  religious  character  of  the  Church  be  stronger, 
deeper,  and  purer  than  it  now  is  ?  Suppose  that  all  the 
myriads  and  millions  in  the  visible  Church  were  as  self- 
sacrificing  as  the  Hindoo  ascetic  who  walks,  perhaps  creeps, 
hundreds  of  miles,  to  pay  his  devotions  at  a  pagan  shrine ; 
who  swings  himself  round  and  round  upon  the  sharp 
hooks,  or  mortifies  his  body  even  to  mutilation — suppose 
that  there  were  the  same  readiness  to  make  an  effort  to  be 
highly  religious,  in  the  average  of  professing  Christians, 
that  there  is  in  these  select  few  of  the  Papal  Church,  or 
the  Mohammedan  world,  would  not  the  I'esults  and  fruits 
be  remarkable  ? 

For  you  will  bear  in  mind,  that  a  given  amount  of  power 
applied  from  a  sanctified  motive,  and  principle,  will  ac- 
14 


314        THE   CHRISTIAN   IMPEEFECT,  YET  A   SAINT. 

complish  vastly  more  than  when  applied  from  an  unsancti- 
fied  motive  and  principle.  If  at  heart  you  are  a  moralist, 
or  a  worldling,  your  attempt  to  be  holy  and  obedient  to 
God  will  accomplish  nothing  in  the  long  run,  because  your 
heart  is  not  right  with  God.  All  your  effort  to  be  good, 
and  to  do  good,  from  an  unregenerate  position,  is  a  dead 
lift.  But  if  you  are  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  your  mind, 
then  all  your  endeavors  to  cultivate  yourself  in  holiness ; 
all  your  self-denial,  mortification  of  the  body,  and  devotion 
to  duty  ;  is  like  the  application  of  mechanical  power  at  the 
end  of  a  long  lever,  and  over  a  firm  fulcrum.  The  re- 
newed man  possesses  what  the  mechanic  terms  a  "pur- 
chase." His  lift  is  not  a  dead  lift,  like  that  of  the  Pagan 
or  Mohammedan  devotee ;  like  that  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
ascetic ;  like  that  of  the  Protestant  moralist. 

"  Put  on,  therefore,  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and  be- 
loved, bowels  of  mercies,  kindness,  humbleness  of  mind, 
meekness,  long-suffering."  As  those  who  have  been  re- 
newed by  Divine  grace,  and  who  possess  a  different  spirit 
and  character  from  that  which  belonged  to  you  in  the  days 
of  your  impenitence,  educate  and  elicit  every  Christian 
grace.  Cultivate  your  Christianity.  It  is  worth  cultivat- 
ing. It  is  worth  protecting  from  the  cold  blasts,  and  rude 
assaults  of  earth.  Fence  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord. 
Put  a  hedge  around  it.  Then  the  wild-boar  of  the  wood 
shall  not  ravage  it ;  then  the  soil  shall  not  be  trodden 
down  to  hardness  and  barrenness,  by  the  feet  of  the 
passers-by. 


SERMON  XXI. 

SANCTIFICATION  COMPLETED  AT  DEATH. 


1  Corinthians  ii.  9. — "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 
have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared 
for  them  that  love  him. " 


These  words  primarily  refer  to  the  higher  knowledge 
which  is  in  reserve  for  the  Christian  in  heaven.  St.  Paul 
is  speaking  to  the  Corinthian  church  of  "  the  wisdom  of 
God  in  a  mystery,  even  the  hidden  wisdom  which  none  of 
the  princes  of  this  world  knew."  He  tells  them  that  they 
know  something  of  it  here,  but  shall  know  far  more  of  it 
hereafter.  Upon  earth,  they  see  "  through  a  glass  darkly," 
but  in  heaven  they  shall  see  "  face  to  face."  In  the  next 
M^orld,  all  doubts  and  perplexities  shall  be  removed  from 
the  understanding,  and  the  mind  shall  enjoy  clear  and  sat- 
isfactory perceptions  of  divine  things.  All  the  previous 
views  upon  such  subjects  will  seem  so  dim,  in  comparison 
with  the  final  vision  and  disclosure,  that  it  may  be  said 
that  eye  has  never  seen,  nor  ear  ever  heard,  nor  heart  ever 
conceived  of  it  before.  Not  that  the  spiritual  man  while 
here  below  has  had  no  inkling  of  the  eternal  vision,  and 
no  glimpse  of  the  eternal  truth ;  but  his  knowledge  is  so 
inferior  to  what  is  poured  into  the  mind  when  it  enters 
heaven,  that  it  seems  nothing  in  comparison. 

But  although  the  primary  reference  of  the  text  is  to  an 


316  SANCTIFICATION 

intellectual  perception,  rather  than  to  an  emotional  enjoy- 
ment ;  though  the  apostle  directs  attention  rather  to  the 
soul's  knowledge,  than  to  the  soul's  happiness ;  yet  it  is 
natural  to  refer  these  words,  as  we  so  generally  do,  to  the 
blessedness  of  the  redeemed  in  heaven.  Probably  the  ma- 
jority of  readers  suppose  that  "  the  things  which  God  hath 
prepared  for  them  that  love  him  " — those  particular  things 
which  the  apostle  had  in  mind,  as  not  visible  by  the  earthly 
eye,  not  audible  by  the  mortal  ear,  and  not  cognizable  in 
this  mode  of  existence — are  the  same  that  are  described 
under  the  glowing  imagery  of  the  sea  of  glass,  the  sapphire 
pavement,  the  jasper  foundations,  and  the  gates  of  pearl. 
It  is  the  heavenly  happiness,  i-ather  than  the  heavenly 
knowledge,  which  commonly  comes  into  mind  when  this 
text  is  quoted.  And  this,  we  have  said,  is  natural  and 
proper.  ISTo  violence  is  done  to  the  apostle's  teaching, 
when  his  words  are  followed  in  to  their  implication,  and 
followed  out  to  their  full  significance.  For,  heavenly 
knowledge  produces  heavenly  happiness.  To  see,  with  a 
clear  calm  perception,  the  truths  and  the  facts  of  eternity, 
is  joy.  Much  of  the  dissatisfaction  and  unrest  of  the 
Christian  life,  upon  earth,  arises  from  indistinct  and  inad- 
equate perceptions.  The  soul  "  sees  through  a  glass  dark- 
ly," or,  as  the  original  signifies,  "  looks,  through  a  mir- 
ror, into  an  enigma."  It  gropes  its  way  in  twilight,  and 
a  thick  atmosphere.  Like  the  mariner  in  a  fog,  it  peers 
into  the  distance,  and  strains  the  eye,  but  sees  no  distinct 
object.  In  such  a  condition,  though  there  may  not  be 
positive  unhappiness,  because  there  is  hope  that  the  winds 
and  the  sun  will  dispel  the  mist,  yet  there  is  no  full  and 
complete  satisfaction.  Not  until  the  sun  actually  shines, 
and  the  long  line  of  the  coast  quivers  in  the  liquid  light, 
and  the  mountain  ranges  lift  themselves  into  bold  view, 
are  the  eye  and  the  heart  of  the  mariner  at  rest. 


COMPLETED   AT  DEATH.  317 

Spiritual  knowledge,  tlien,  in  its  influence  and  effects,  is 
spiritual  enjoyment,  and  the  words  of  the  apostle  may 
therefore  be  understood  to  teach,  that  the  hwppiness  which 
a  believer  will  experience  in  heaven  is  so  surpassingly  great, 
in  comparison  with  what  he  has  experienced  upon  earth, 
that  it  may  be  said  that  his  eye  has  not  seen,  nor  his  ear 
heard,  nor  his  heart  conceived  of  it. 

In  order  to  understand  this  truth,  and  feel  its  impression, 
we  must  remember  that  the  Christian  life  upon  earth  is  a 
race  and  a  fight,  and  consequently  cannot  be  a  rest  and  a 
paradise.  The  Scriptures  uniformly  represent  the  course 
and  career  of  a  believer,  this  side  the  grave,  as  one  of  con- 
flict, toil,  and  effort.  "  Except  a  man  take  his  cross  daily, 
he  cannot  be  my  disciple.  In  the  world,  ye  shall  have 
tribulation."  These  are  the  declarations  of  the  Founder 
of  Christianity,  and  they  enunciate  the  real  nature  of  his 
religion,  as  it  must  exist  in  a  world  that  is  sinful,  full  of 
temptation,  and  unfriendly  to  holiness.  "  "We  are  troubled 
on  every  side ;  we  are  perplexed  ;  we  are  persecuted  ;  we 
are  cast  down.  We  continually  bear  about  in  the  body, 
the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  We  are  always  delivered 
unto  death,  for  Jesus'  sake."  These  are  the  assertions  of  one 
of  the  most  eminent  and  successful  of  Christ's  disciples ; 
and  although  he  was  called  to  experience  more  of  external 
opposition  and  persecution  than  the  Church  at  large,  it 
is  probable  that  he  had  his  compensation,  in  being  freer 
than  most  Christians  from  internal  conflict  and  trouble. 
Whether,  then,  we  consider  the  direct  declaration  of 
Christ  himself,  or  the  complaints  of  his  people,  we  find 
that  the  life  of  a  believer,  so  long  as  he  is  upon  earth,  is 
one  of  effort  and  struggle. 

For  those  who  live  in  the  peaceful  times  of  the  Church, 
this  struggle  and  endeavor  is  chiefly  of  an  inward  kind. 
The  life  of  a  Christian,  in  more  senses  than  one,  is  a  hid- 


318  SANCTIFICATION 

den  life.  What  a  subterranean  current  of  temptation,  and 
resistance,  is  silently  running  at  this  very  instant  in  millions 
of  human  hearts.  The  world  sees  none  of  it ;  but  the  un- 
seen combat  with  the  invisible  foe  is  every  moment  going 
on.  How  unceasingly  is  the  conflict  between  the  new  man 
and  the  old  man,  the  conscience  and  the  will,  the  spirit 
and  the  flesh,  the  grace  of  God  and  the  indwelling  cor- 
ruption, waging  in  the  soul  of  every  child  of  God.  In  the 
market-place,  in  the  house  of  God,  in  the  privacy  of  the 
closet,  in  the  intercourse  of  the  household,  how  incessantly 
is  the  temptation  presenting  itself,  and  how  constantly  by 
the  grace  of  God  is  it  repulsed.  Sometimes  the  wish 
arises  that  the  temptations  of  this  earthly  course  might  be 
concentrated,  and  that  the  destiny  of  the  soul  might  be  de- 
cided by  a  single  terrible  conflict,  instead  of  by  this  slow, 
pertinacious,  life-long  warfare.  The  acquisition  of  holiness, 
by  a  renewed  man,  resembles  the  ancient  wars  which  were 
prolonged  sometimes  for  more  than  a  generation.  The 
Dorians  of  Laconia  fought  seventy-six  years  with  the  Dori- 
ans of  Messene,  for  the  supremacy  of  that  little  patch  of 
earth,  the  Peloponnesus.  The  Roman  contended  thirty 
years  with  the  Samnite,  for  the  possession  of  Italy,  and 
forty  years  with  the  Carthaginian,  for  the  dominion  of  the 
world.  And  the  Christian  fights  his  fight  with  the  world, 
the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  not  in  a  day  or  a  year,  but  through 
all  his  days,  and  all  his  years. 

Now  it  is  plain,  that  such  a  state  of  things  cannot  last 
forever.  "  There  remaineth  a  rest,  for  the  people  of  God." 
Man  was  not  designed  by  creation,  to  be  eternally  running 
a  race,  and  eternally  fighting  a  fight.  He  was  intended 
for  harmony,  for  peace,  for  joy.  Nothing  but  sin  has  in- 
troduced such  a  condition  of  affairs.  This  struggle,  and 
effort,  results  from  the  endeavor  to  get  free  from  an  un- 
lawful and  wrong  state  of  the  soul.     Had  man  not  fallen, 


COMPLETED   AT   DEATH.  319 

his  career  would  have  been  the  serene  and  unhindered  one 
of  the  angels  of  God.  It  was  his  original  destination,  to 
be  conformed  to  law  without  any  struggle  of  opposing 
desires  ;  without  any  collision  between  will  and  conscience. 
As  created,  and  unfallen,  there  was  in  man  not  the  slight- 
est conflict  between  his  duty  and  his  inclination,  and  con- 
sequently there  was  no  need,  so  far  as  the  Divine  intention 
was  concerned,  of  any  race,  or  any  fight.  When,  there- 
fore, the  grace  of  God  quickens  the  "  spirit,"  and  slays  the 
"flesh,"  in  any  individual  man,  and  thus  initiates  that 
conflict  between  the  two  which  St.  Paul  describes  in  the 
seventh  chapter  of  Konians,  it  is  not  for  the  purpose  of 
continuing  the  conflict  through  all  eternity.  It  is  a  strug- 
gle only  for  time,  and  is  to  cease  when  time  is  over. 
The  intention  is,  to  bring  in  that  perfect  and  blessed  con- 
dition of  the  soul,  in  which  all  the  powers  are  in  right 
relations ;  in  which  the  higher  shall  firmly  rule  the  lower, 
and  the  lower  shall  submissively  obey  the  higher. 

Accordingly,  the  text  teaches  that  the  Christian  who 
has  been  patient  and  faithful  in  running  the  race,  and 
fighting  the  fight,  will  finally  be  relieved  from  the  necessity 
of  strain  and  effort.  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which 
God  hsitliprepared  for  them  that  love  him. "  The  believer's 
experience  here  upon  eartli  has  been  trying  and  painful, 
and  must  not  be  taken  as  a  specimen  of  the  heavenly  life. 
God  has  provided  a  blessed  calm,  and  rest,  beyond  the  tomb. 
It  is  something  far  beyond  what  the  eye  has  seen  here, 
what  the  ear  has  heard,  what  the  heart  has  conceived  of. 

The  believer  is  sometimes  disheartened,  from  imagining 
that  his  life  in  eternity  will  be  much  like  his  life  in  time. 
As  he  throws  his  glance  forward,  he  seems  to  see  stretch- 
ing before  him  an  endless  series  of  temptations  and  resist- 
ances, of  successes  and  failures.    As  it  is  here,  so  he  thinks 


320  SANCTIFICATION 

it  will  be  there — a  perpetual  race,  an  everlasting  fight. 
But  he  should  remember  that  the  great  God  his  Saviour 
intends  to  "perfect  that  which  concerneth  him  ;  "  to  com- 
plete the  work  of  sanctification  in  his  soul.  And  this,  too, 
bj  a  direct  intervention,  when  the  soul  leaves  the  body. 
As,  at  the  new  birth  of  his  soul,  God  the  Holy  Ghost  re- 
generated him  by  an  instantaneous  efficiency  that  was 
supernatural,  and  not  a  mere  link  in  the  ordinary  move- 
ments of  nature  and  providence,  so,  at  death,  the  remain- 
ing corruption  which  the  race  and  the  fight  have  not 
succeeded  in  purging  away,  shall  be  removed  by  a  corre- 
sponding decisive  energy  on  the  part  of  the  Great  Sanctifier. 
This  must  be  so.  For  our  text  tells  us  of  a  "  preparation  " 
— a  personal  and  direct  arrangement  upon  the  part  of  God. 
And  how  is  the  sin  which  the  holiest  of  men  are  conscious 
of  in  their  very  dying  hour  to  be  cleansed  away,  except  by 
the  finishing  strokes  of  Divine  grace  ?  They  have  struggled 
with  their  inward  corruption  for  many  long  years.  They 
have  not  been  idle  in  keeping  the  heart.  They  have  not 
been  unsuccessful ;  for  they  have  grown  more  saintly,  to 
the  close  of  life.  And  yet,  like  St.  Paul,  although  "hav- 
ing the  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit  they  still  groan  within 
themselves,  waiting  for  their  adoption,  to  wit,  their  com- 
plete redemption."  (Rom.  viii.  23.)  At  the  same  rate  of 
progress  as  in  the  past,  it  would  require  years ;  it  might 
require  one  whole  life-time  after  another  ;  to  extirpate  en- 
tirely the  remaining  depravity.  How  shall  it  be  cleansed 
away,  and  the  soul  stand  a  spotless  soul  in  the  presence  of 
Him  who  cannot  endure  the  least  taint  of  depravity,  ex- 
cept by  that  crowning  and  completing  act  of  grace,  by 
which  the  imperfectly  sanctified  believer,  in  a  moment,  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  becomes  a  "justified  man  made 
perfect  ; "  by  which,  when  the  believer  beholds  his  Lord, 
"  he  shall  be  like  him,  for  he  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 


COMPLETED   AT  DEATH.  321 

"We  live  in  a  world  of  natural  laws  and  operations,  and 
for  this  reason  find  it  difficult  to  get  out  of  the  circle  of 
slow  and  gradual  processes.  Our  Christian  character,  here 
below,  forms  and  matures  very  much  like  the  fruits  of  the 
earth — first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the  full  corn  in 
the  ear.  The  oak  builds  up  its  fabric,  by  a  slow  assimila- 
tion of  the  nutritive  elements,  and  compacts  its  fibre,  by  a 
long  conflict  with  the  winds  and  the  storms  ;  and  we,  too, 
strengthen  our  moral  force,  and  confirm  our  virtue,  by  a 
similar  method.  We  are  in  the  habit,  consequently,  of 
supposing  that  there  is  no  other  method  than  this  gradual 
one,  and  limit  the  Divine  efficiency  by  it.  We  forget  that 
God  is  the  sovereign  of  both  realms — the  natural  and  the 
supernatural — and  that  he  is  able  and  free  to  work  in  either 
of  them.  Even  in  our  own  personal  history,  he  has  so 
wrought.  That  act  by  which,  when  we  were  dead  in  tres- 
passes and  sins,  he  made  us  alive  unto  righteousness,  is  not 
explainable  upon  natural  principles.  It  was  not  by  the 
gradual  method  of  growth  and  education,  that  we  made 
the  passage  from  nature  to  grace.  We  were  "  created 
anew  "  in  Christ  Jesus.  After  the  passage  was  made,  we 
did  indeed  find  that  a  process  was  commenced  within  our 
hearts  that  bore  all  the  marks  of  a  gradual,  a  continuous, 
and,  alas !  a  very  slow  movement.  Our  inordinate  and 
earthly  affections  declined  very  gradually.  Our  envy,  our 
pride,  our  malice,  waned  away  so  slowly,  that  we  sometimes 
queried  whether  it  was  a  waning,  or  a  waxing.  On  the 
other  hand,  our  devout  and  spiritual  affections — our  love, 
joy,  peace,  faith,  hope — grew  so  slightly  and  feebly,  that  we 
could  be  certain  that  they  had  grown,  only  by  comparing 
ourselves  with  ourselves  after  long  intervals.  Our  sanctifi- 
cation  has  been  progressive,  and  not  instantaneous ;  and  in 
these  respects  finds  its  parallel  in  the  leaven  that  gradually 
pervades  the  whole  mass,  and  in  the  mustard-seed  which  re- 
14* 


322  SANCTIFICATION 

quires  months  and  years  for  its  expansion.  But  our  regener- 
ation was  instantaneous.  "We  have,  therefore,  within  the 
sphere  of  our  own  experience,  the  proof  that  God  works 
both  instantaneously  and  progressively  ;  by  a  method  that 
is  startling,  and  a  method  that  is  uniform.  He  begins  a 
work  by  a  fiat,  and  then  he  carries  it  forward  by  a  culture. 
He  instantaneously  creates  us  new  men  in  Christ  Jesus, 
and  then  he  gradually  educates  us  towards  the  stature  of 
perfect  men  in  Christ  Jesus. 

We  are  not,  therefore,  to  limit  the  Divine  efficiency  either 
to  a  creating,  or  to  an  educating  function,  solely.  We  ought 
not  to  suppose  that  because  our  regeneration  was  instantane- 
ous, the  development  and  maturing  of  Christian  character 
must  be  so  likewise,  and  that  therefore  we  may  neglect 
the  means  of  grace  and  of  growth.  And  on  the  other 
hand,  we  ought  not  to  think  that  because  our  sanctification 
proceeds  so  gradually,  and  is  worked  out  by  the  trial, 
temptation,  and  discipline  of  a  whole  life-time,  therefore 
all  rapid  changes  are  forever  excluded  from  our  future  his- 
tory, and  God  will  never  intervene  with  a  more  determined 
and  decisive  influence. 

Our  text  helps  us  out  of  our  proneness  to  err,  by  direct- 
ing attention  to  what  God  is  intending  to  do  in  the  souls 
of  his  children,  when  in  his  providence  they  shall  be  sum- 
moned before  him.  No  one  can  appear  in  his  presence 
with  remaining  sin.  "Without  holiness  no  man  shall  see 
the  Lord."  But  we  know  that  so  long  as  we  are  in  the 
flesh,  the  "  motions  of  sins  in  our  members  "  do  continue  to 
molest,  and  sometimes  to  foil  us.  Between  the  last  mo- 
ments upon  earth,  and  the  first  moments  in  heaven,  there 
must,  therefore,  pass  upon  us  that  transformation  by  which 
the  imperfect  believer  becomes  the  perfected  saint.  It  is 
not  a  radical  change,  like  that  which  introduced  us  into 
the  kingdom  of  God.     It  is  not  the  formation  of  a  new 


COMPLETED   AT  DEATH.  323 

heart,  and  a  riglit  spirit.  But  it  is  the  completion,  by  a 
swift  and  mighty  act  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  a  process  that 
was  commenced  it  may  be  long  years  ago,  and  which  has 
lingered  and  fluctuated  with  our  feeble  and  hesitating  ef- 
forts after  holiness.  He  who  upon  earth  has  run  the  race, 
and  fought  the  fight,  will  discover  in  that  supreme  moment 
when  he  first  stands  face  to  face  with  the  Holy  One,  that 
Divine  grace  has  been  sufiicient  for  him.  He  will  find 
himself  to  be  perfectly  holy,  and  perfectly  happy.  All 
that  he  has  heretofore  experienced  of  peace  and  joy  is  as 
nothing,  in  comparison  with  the  blessedness  which  now 
fills  his  soul.  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  heart 
conceived  of  it  before.  In  comparison  with  the  past  im- 
perfection, the  present  spotlessness,  and  purity,  and  com- 
plete deliverance  from  all  corruption,  will  appear  almost 
incredible.  Undoubtedly  the  feeling  of  surprise  will  mingle 
with  the  other  emotions  that  will  distend  the  redeemed 
soul,  when  it  enters  heaven.  And  this  surprise  will  spring 
from  the  strange  consciousness  of  being  sinless.  That 
moral  corruption  which  was  born  with  the  soul ;  which 
grew  with  its  growth,  and  strengthened  with  its  strength  ; 
which  received,  indeed,  its  death  wound  by  the  sword  of 
the  Spirit,  in  regeneration,  yet  continued  to  show  signs  of 
lingering  vitality  down  to  the  very  hour  of  bodily  dissolu- 
tion— that  sin  which  has  been  a  steady  element  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  man,  never  leaving  nor  forsaking  him  so 
long  as  he  was  upon  earth,  is  now  gone  forever.  Well  may 
"  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  come  to  Mount  Zion,  with 
singing  and  everlasting  joy."  Well  may  they  say :  "  Eye 
hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  not  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  of  the  wonderful  trans- 
formation which  the  final  act  of  sanctifying  grace  produces 
in  the  soul." 

It  was  owing  to  the  opinion  that  the  complete  sanctifica- 


324  SANCTIFICATION 

tion  of  the  Christian  must  be  brought  about  by  the  ordi- 
nary influences  of  the  Spirit,  in  the  use  of  the  common 
instrumentalities,  that  the  doctrine  of  a  cleansing  in  the 
intermediate  state  crept  into  the  Church.  Thoughtful 
and  spiritual  minds,  like  Augustine  for  example,  perceived 
that  indwelling  corruption  attends  the  Christian  up  to  the 
very  hour  of  death.  They  knew  that  no  sin,  however  slight, 
can  appear  before  God.  Hence  they  supposed  that  the 
last  stages  of  sanctification  must  occur  beyond  the  tomb. 
They  imagined  that  a  certain  period  must  be  allotted  in 
the  future  life  to  the  imperfectly  sanctified  Christian,  in 
wiiich  his  remaining  corruption  should  be  removed  by  the 
ordinary  method  of  trial  and  discipline,  and  he  thus  be 
made  "  without  spot,  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing,"  pre- 
paratory to  going  into  the  light  of  the  Divine  countenance. 
But  upon  their  own  principles,  there  was  no  need  of  such 
an  intermediate  cleansing.  Their  view  of  grace  ought  to 
have  precluded  it.  Augustine  and  his  followers  held,  with 
great  decision,  the  doctrine  of  iy'resisiible  grace — the 
doctrine  of  an  immediate  and  powerful  energy  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  by  which  the  most  marked  changes  can  be  wrought 
instantaneously  in  human  character.  Had  they  applied 
this  theory  of  Divine  influence  to  the  completion  of  the 
work  of  sanctification,  as  they  did  to  its  inception,  the 
notion  of  a  gradual  purgation  beyond  this  life  would 
not  have  arisen  in  their  minds. 

The  text,  then,  has  turned  our  attention  to  that  final 
act  of  God's  redeeming  grace,  spoken  of  in  the  Westmin- 
ster Shorter  Catechism  (37),  by  which,  "  at  death,  the 
soul  of  a  believer  is  made  perfect  in  holiness,  and  im- 
mediately passes  into  glory."  The  eye  hath  not  seen  its 
operation,  the  ear  hath  not  heard  it,  and  the  heart  of  man 
cannot  comprehend  it.  Yet  it  is  one  of  "  the  things  which 
God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him."     Having 


COMPLETED   AT  DEATH.  325 

begun  a  work  of  grace  in  the  fallen  sonl,  he  will  carry  it 
forward  unto  "  the  day  when  he  makes  up  his  jewels  " — 
the  day  of  the  perfecting  and  final  act  of  grace — and  every 
child  of  God  may  say  confidently  with  the  apostle:  "I  am 
persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  com- 
mitted to  him  against  that  day." 

I.  In  view  of  this  truth,  we  remark,  in  the  first  place, 
that  Christians  should  encourage  themselves  in  their  con- 
tinual race  and  warfare  upon  earth,  by  the  recollection  that 
they  are  not  destined  to  run,  and  to  Jight  forever.  A  time 
is  coming  when  will  and  conscience,  duty  and  inclination 
will  be  perfectly  identical.  This  conflict  between  the 
flesh  and  the  spirit  is  eventually  to  cease,  and  holiness  will 
be  the  natural  and  irrepressible  activity  of  the  soul.  We 
know,  by  bitter  experience,  how  easy  and  effortless  the 
process  of  sinning  is  to  a  sinner  ;  we  shall  one  day  know, 
how  easy  and  effortless  the  process  of  obedience  is  to  a 
saint.  There  is  a  time  coming,  when  the  sorrow  and  fear 
by  which  God  is  now  educating  us  will  end,  and  we  shall 
never  grieve  or  be  anxious  again.  Afl[liction  will  have 
accomplished  its  work  within  us,  and  then  God  will  wipe 
away  all  tears.  There  is  a  time  coming,  when  the  weak 
and  struggling  human  will  is  to  be  no  more  solicited  and 
staggered  by  temptation  ;  when  there  will  be  no  remaining 
corruption  to  send  up  its  appetites,  and  no  unfriendly 
world  of  outward  objects  to  seduce  the  soul  from  God. 
The  race  and  the  fight  are  not  for  eternity,  but  only  for 
time. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  the  Christian  should  drive  off 
sluggishness,  by  recollecting  that  "  a  man  is  not  crowned^ 
except  he  strive  lawfully.''^  (2  Tim.  ii.  5.)  He  must  not 
fold  his  arms,  and  neglect  the  keeping  of  his  heart  here 
upon  earth,  because  there  is  such  a  power  in  God  to  per- 
fectly sanctify  the  human  soul.    Sanctifying  influences  are 


326  SANCTIFICATION 

granted  to  man,  not  absolutely  and  unconditionally.  They 
come  to  him  in  connection  with  the  covenant  of  grace. 
They  are  a  part  of  an  economy.  He  therefore  who  has 
not  entered  into  that  covenant,  and  is  not  living  under  the 
economy  as  a  whole,  cannot  participate  in  the  benefits  of 
a  part  of  it.  The  whole  or  none,  is  the  rule  in  spiritual 
things.  He,  therefore,  who  does  not  daily  take  up  his 
cross  on  earth,  must  not  expect  to  be  the  recipient  of  that 
crowning  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  perfects  the  soul 
in  holiness.  This  is  the  fatal  error  in  the  Sacramentarian 
theory  of  grace.  The  Papist  supposes  that  a  person  may 
live  an  earthly  and  unspiritual  life,  and  yet  that  by  virtue 
of  the  merely  outward  baptism  of  the  Church,  the  cleans- 
ing influence  will  be  imparted.  He  forgets  the  apostolic 
dictum :  "  That  a  man  is  not  crowned,  except  he  strive 
lawfully  " — that  only  he  who  carefully  observes  the  rules 
of  the  game,  and  of  the  arena,  is  entitled  to  the  rewards  of 
the  victor.  He  who  attempts  surreptitiously  to  obtain  the 
prize  ;  he  who  would  steal  the  garland  or  the  crown  ;  will 
be  repulsed  ignominiously,  and  with  contempt.  He  who 
thinks  to  secure  those  great  and  lofty  things  which  God 
has  prepared  for  them  that  love  him,  without  passing 
through  the  antecedent  and  preparatory  steps  and  stages, 
will  in  the  last  day  meet  with  a  terrible  rebuke  for  his 
presumption,  and  his  selfishness,  and  his  worthlessness. 

This  consideration  is  enough  to  drive  off  sluggishness, 
and  urge  the  Christian  to  constant  activity.  The  com- 
pleting of  any  work  implies  that  it  has  been  commenced, 
and  has  passed  through  some  stages  of  progress.  If  there 
be  nothing  begun,  it  is  absurd  to  speak  of  a  finishing 
stroke.  Every  sin,  therefore,  that  is  resisted,  every  tempta- 
tion that  is  repulsed,  and  every  grace  that  is  strengthened 
in  the  daily  struggle,  brings  the  work  so  much  the  nearer 
to  its  conclusion.     By  these  efforts  we  evince  that  we  "  love 


COMPLETED  AT  DEATH.  327 

God  " — that  we  prefer  his  service,  yearn  after  his  holiness, 
and  aspire  after  his  blessedness.  And  "  for  those  that  love 
God,"  there  "  is  prepared  what  the  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor 
the  heart  conceived  of." 

III.  In  the  third  place,  the  Christian,  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  God  will  eventually  complete  the  work  of  sanctifica- 
tion,  ought  never  to  he  discouraged,  or  despair  of  the  result. 
If  tlie  doctrine  of  the  text  be  true,  the  believer  is  certain 
to  succeed.  Let  him  "  not  be  weary  in  well-doing,  for  in 
due  season  he  shall  reap,  if  he  faint  not."  That  is  a  fine 
sentiment  which  Plutarch  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Coriola- 
nus.  In  a  battle  with  the  Yolscians,  the  Romans  under 
Coriolanus  had  charged  with  fury,  and  broken  the  enemy's 
centre,  and  put  them  to  a  total  rout.  As  they  were  start- 
ing upon  the  pursuit,  they  begged  of  their  general,  who 
was  shattered  and  half-dead  with  wounds  and  fatigue,  that 
he  would  retire  to  the  camp.  "It  is  not  for  the  victor  to 
tire  of  the  battle,"  was  the  reply  of  Coriolanus,  as  he 
joined  in  the  onward  rush  and  sweep  of  his  army.  It  is 
not  for  a  believer  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  it  is  not  for 
one  who  has  been  sprinkled  with  the  expiating  blood,  and 
has  been  born  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  to  tire  of  the  battle  be- 
tween the  flesh  and  the  spirit.  Though  the  conflict  may  con- 
tinue for  many  long  years  ;  though  very  often  "  the  spirit 
is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak  ;"  though  sometimes  "the 
Borrows  of  death  compass  the  soul,  and  the  pangs  of  hell 
get  hold  of  it ; "  still,  the  victory  is  sure  in  the  end.  Upon 
such  terms  we  can  well  afford  to  fight.  Who  would  hesi- 
tate to  enlist  in  a  war,  if  he  knew  infallibly  that  he  shoidd 
survive,  that  he  should  conquer,  and  that  he  should  obtain 
everything  that  he  fought  for  ?  Yet  such  is  the  state  of 
the  case,  with  those  that  "  love  God,"  and  are  "  the  called 
according  to  his  purpose."  Every  soul  of  man  which  here 
upon  earth  daily  takes  up  the  cross,  is  rapidly  nearing  that 


328        SANCTIFICATION   COMPLETED   AT   DEATH. 

point  where  it  shall  lay  it  down.  Every  disciple  of  Christ 
who  here  in  time  walks  with  him  in  tribulation,  and 
temptation,  is  approaching  that  serene  and  sheltered  spot 
where  temptation  and  tribulation  are  absolutely  unknown. 
One  thing  is  as  certain  as  the  other.  Does  a  man  know 
that  he  is  daily  tighting  the  fight ;  he  may  know  infallibly, 
then,  that  one  day  he  shall  as  victor  cease  the  conflict,  and 
lay  down  his  armor. 


SERMOK  XXII. 

WATCHFULNESS  AND  PKAYERFULNESS. 


1  Peter  iv.  7. — "Watch  unto  prayer." 


In  explaining  this  injunction  of  St.  Peter,  we  shall  show 
the  importance  of  a  watchful  and  prayerful  spirit,  by  con- 
sidering the  innate  disposition  of  the  human  heart.  We 
shall  find  the  argument  derived  from  the  fact  that  man  is 
naturally  inclined  to  sin ;  or,  in  the  phrase  of  Scripture,  is 
''  horn  in  sin  and  conceived  in  iniquity  ; "  is  of  the  strongest 
kind  for  obeying  the  command  :  "  Watch  unto  prayer." 

The  inborn  disposition  of  any  creature  whatever  is  a 
fundamental  and  most  important  part  of  it.  It  lies  at  the 
centre,  and  is  at  once  the  fountain  whence  the  whole  ex- 
ternal conduct  flows,  and  the  cause  of  its  being  what  it  is. 
The  innate  disposition  of  a  tiger  is  the  source  of  his  fierce 
and  ravenous  actions ;  that  of  the  lamb,  of  its  gentle, 
harmless,  and  timid  demeanor.  The  great  difference  in 
the  outward  behavior  of  these  two  creatures  is  due  to  the 
difference  in  the  inward  nature,  or  disposition. 

Man  also  possesses  an  innate  disposition ;  and  it  is  the 
fountain  whence  issue  all  his  outward  acts.  His  every-day 
life  ai3t<i  conduct  is  as  true  an  exhibition  of  the  human  dis- 
position, as  the  brute's  every-day  life  is  of  the  brute's  dis- 
position.    We  can  predict  with  as  much  certainty  what 


330  WATCHFULNESS   AND   PEAYERFULNESS. 

the  conduct  of  a  man  with  a  sinful  disposition  will  be,  if 
he  is  not  deterred  by  fear,  or  shame,  or  some  other  selfish 
motive,  from  acting  it  out,  as  we  can  what  the  conduct  of 
a  tiger  will  be  if  he  is  struck.  "  Out  of  the  heart,"  says 
our  Lord,  "  proceed  evil  thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  for- 
nications, thefts,  false  witness,  blaspliemies.  A  good  man, 
out  of  the  good  treasure  of  the  heart,  bringeth  forth  good 
things ;  and  an  evil  man,  out  of  the  evil  treasure,  bringeth 
forth  evil  things."     (Matt.  xii.  35  ;  xv.  19.) 

The  connection  between  the  outward  conduct  and  the 
inward  disposition  is  so  invariable  and  certain,  that  the 
Scriptures  do  not  hesitate  to  pass  even  below  the  range  of 
animal  life,  for  illustrations.  Our  Lord  compares  the  re- 
lation which  a  bad  life  bears  to  a  bad  heart,  to  that  which 
exists  between  the  vegetable  principle  and  its  products. 
"  Every  good  tree  bringeth  forth  good  fruit ;  but  a  corrupt 
tree  bringeth  forth  evil  fruit.  A  good  tree  cannot  bring 
forth  evil  fruit ;  neither  can  a  corrupt  tree  bring  forth 
good  fruit."  (Matt.  vii.  17,  18.)  And  hence  he  lays  it 
down  as  a  general  principle  that  the  only  way  in  which 
mankind  can  be  really  improved  is  by  a  change  of  the 
heart,  or  natural  disposition.  "  Either  make  the  tree  good, 
and  his  fruit  good  ;  or  else  make  the  tree  corrupt,  and  his 
fruit  corrupt."  (Matt.  xii.  33.)  The  conduct  inevitably 
follows  the  character ;  and  therefore  there  can  be  no  total 
change  of  conduct,  except  by  a  radical  change  of  character. 

But  the  purpose  for  -which  the  innate  disposition  of  a 
man  is  compared  with  that  of  a  brute,  and  even  with  the 
unconscious  vital  principle  in  a  tree,  is  merely  to  illustrate 
the  truth  that  the  outward  flows  from  the  inward,  all  the 
world  over.  Go  where  we  will ;  pass  through  all  the  ranges 
of  matter  and  of  mind  ;  we  shall  find  it  to  be  a  universal 
fact,  that  that  which  is  without  emanates  from  that  which 
is  within.     But  the  comparison  cannot  be  pressed  any  fur- 


WATCHFULNESS   AND   PKAYERFULNESS.  331 

ther  than  this.  While  the  inborn  and  natural  disposition 
of  a  man  is  analogous  to  that  of  an  animal,  and  even  to  the 
noxious  principle  in  a  plant  or  tree,  in  respect  to  the  single 
particular  of  its  being  the  source  of  external  products,  the 
analogy  stops  here.  The  sinful  nature  of  man  differs  from 
the  ravenous  nature  of  a  lion,  or  the  deadly  virus  of  the 
upas  tree,  in  many  respects ;  and  especially  in  regard  to 
the  immensely  important  feature  of  resjionsibility  to  law. 

The  innate  disposition  of  a  fallen  man  is  self-willed,  and 
culpable.  Man  is  accountable  at  the  bar  of  God,  for  his 
wicked  heart,  as  well  as  for  his  wicked  actions.  St.  Peter 
said  to  Simon  the  sorcerer :  "  Thy  heart  is  not  right  in 
the  sight  of  God.  Repent  therefore  of  this  thy  wicked- 
ness, and  pray  God,  if  perhaps  the  thought  {iirivoio)  of  thy 
heart  may  be  forgiven  thee."  (Acts  viii.  21,  22.)  He 
called  him  to  repentance,  not  merely  for  the  sin  of  propos- 
ing to  purchase  the  miraculous  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
with  money,  but  for  the  avaricious,  worldly,  and  ungodly 
disposition  that  lay  under  it.  But  the  brute  is  responsible 
neither  for  his  disposition,  nor  his  actions.  The  lion's  car- 
nivorous nature  is  not  a  guilty  one,  because  the  lion  had 
nothing  to  do  with  its  origin.  It  is  not  self-willed,  but 
created  by  God.  It  is  as  much  a  part  of  the  original  crea- 
tion as  the  gem  in  the  mine,  or  the  poisonous  life  of  the 
deadly  tree.  The  evil  heart  of  man,  on  the  contrary,  out 
of  which  proceed  the  evil  thoughts,  the  murders,  and  the 
adulteries,  was  no  part  of  the  six  days'  creative  work  upon 
which  God  looked  down,  and  pronounced  it  "  good." 
Man's  sinful  disposition,  though  innate  because  transmitted 
from  Adam,  was  not  created  by  Almighty  God.  It  is  not 
man's  first  and  original  disposition  as  he  came  from  his 
Maker's  hand,  but  a  second  and  subsequent  disposition 
originated  by  man  himself.  God  made  man  upright,  and 
all  the  "  treasure  of  the  heart " — all  the  inward  disposition 


332  WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYEEFULNESS. 

— was  "  good."  The  present  "  evil  treasure  of  the  heart " 
— the  existing  sinful  disposition  of  the  will  and  affections — 
began  after  the  Creator's  work  was  ended.  It  is  the  pro- 
duct of  the  creature.  This  carnal  mind,  this  sinful  heart, 
this  selfish  inclination,  this  wicked  disposition,  from  which 
all  wrong  acts  issue,  is  the  consequence  of  human  apostasy. 
It  came  in  with  Adam's  fall.  It  is  both  self-will,  and  ill- 
will.  It  is  unforced  and  spontaneous  self-determination 
in  every  man,  deserving  to  be  punished  because  "  it  is 
enmity  towards  God,  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God, 
neither  indeed  can  be."  St.  Paul  has  it  in  view,  when  he 
affirms  that  "  we  are  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath." 
(Eph.  ii.  3.)  And  the  Westminster  Creed  repeats  this  in- 
spired declaration,  when  it  asserts  that  "  every  sin,  both 
original  and  actual,  being  a  transgression  of  the  righteous 
law  of  God,  and  contrary  thereunto,  doth  in  its  own  nature 
bring  guilt  upon  the  sinner,  whereby  he  is  bound  over  to 
the  wrath  of  God,  and  curse  of  the  law,  and  so  made  subject 
to  death,  with  all  miseries  spiritual,  temporal,  and  eternal." 
It  was  a  position  of  the  English  deists,  that  man  is  exactly 
as  God  made  him  ;  and  that  therefore  he  is  as  irresponsible 
as  the  brute,  for  the  evil  inclination  of  his  heart.  They 
denied  the  free  fall  of  man  in  Adam,  and  contended  that 
he  comes  by  his  so-called  sinful  nature  as  the  animal  does 
by  his  carnivorous  propensity — namely,  by  the  creative  act 
of  the  Deity — and  that  consequently  he  is  no  more  blame- 
worthy for  being  murderous,  or  envious,  or  selfish,  in  his 
inclination,  than  is  the  tiger  for  being  ravenous.  Says 
Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  one  of  the  most  moral  of  this 
school  of  thinkers :  "  Men  are  not  hastily  to  be  condemned 
who  are  led  to  sin  by  bodily  constitution.  The  indulgence 
of  lust  and  anger  is  no  more  to  be  blamed  than  the  thirst 
occasioned  by  dropsy,  or  the  drowsiness  produced  by 
lethargy." 


WATCHFULNESS   AND   PEAYEEFULNESS.  333 

But  this  theory  is  refuted  by  human  consciousness.  No 
man  ever  felt  that  it  is  true  ;  and  millions  of  men  have 
felt  that  it  is  false.  Millions  have  confessed  the  guilt  of 
their  hearts,  and  mourned  over  it.  If  this  position  were 
the  real  truth  and  fact,  it  must  sooner  or  later  have  be- 
come a  matter  of  conscious  experience  for  some  portion  of 
the  human  family.  An  actual  and  stubborn  fact  cannot 
be  perpetually  hid  under  a  bushel.  But  who  of  the  sons 
of  Adam  was  ever  really  and  positively  conscious  of  in- 
nocency,  for  his  malignant  and  murderous  inclination  ?  for 
his  envious  and  selfish  spirit  ?  for  his  sensual  and  cruel 
disposition  ?  "Who  ever  had  the  abiding  and  unassailable 
conviction,  that  human  character  is  a  wholly  irresponsible 
matter  ?  Furthermore,  what  does  remorse  signify  and 
teach  upon  this  point  ?  A  man  may  assert  that  he  is 
not  accountable  to  God  for  either  his  character,  or  his  con- 
duct ;  but  there  are  certain  moments,  when  an  internal 
moral  anguish  makes  him  conscious  that  he  is.  Else  why 
the  anguish  ?  Why  this  moral  tortui-e,  as  the  man  reads 
his  own  heart,  and  studies  his  own  character  ?  Is  the  brute, 
with  whom  the  theorist  compares  himself,  and  puts  him- 
self on  a  level,  ever  distressed  because  he  has  a  fierce  and 
ravenous  disposition  ?  Remorse  of  conscience  which  ap- 
pears at  times  in  every  man,  and  which  has  made  the 
death-bed  of  some  of  these  theorists  a  dreadful  scene,  is 
conclusive  that  man  comes  by  his  sinful  disposition  in  a 
responsible  manner — by  free-will,  and  not  by  God's  crea- 
tive act.  For,  does  the  wise  and  good  God  torture  his 
creatures  wantonly,  and  for  nothing  ?  Does  God  put  man 
upon  the  rack  of  conscience  in  this  life,  and  punish  him 
in  the  next  life,  knowing — as  he  must  know,  if  it  is  a  fact 
— that  there  is  no  just  ground  for  it  in  the  voluntary  agency 
of  man  ?  There  is,  indeed,  a  mystery  surrounding  the 
free  fall  of  all  men  in  Adam,  and  the  responsible  origin  of 


334  WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYERFULNESS. 

linman  depravity — as  much  mystery  as  there  is  in  the 
origin  of  the  soul  itself,  and  no  more — but  something  more 
than  mystery  is  requisite  to  establish  the  position,  that 
man  is  now  exactly  as  God  made  him,  and  that  he  is  not 
guilty  for  his  selfish  disposition  and  malignant  inclination. 
Here  is  this  remorse,  which  is  a  species  of  vital  logic. 
Arguments  against  it  are  like  arguments  to  prove  that  fire 
does  not  burn,  when  live  coals  are  heaped  upon  a  man's 
head,  and  the  fire  is  eating  into  the  flesh. 

With  this  brief  notice  of  the  fundamental  importance, 
and  the  culpability  of  man's  sinful  inclination,  we  proceed 
to  notice  the  call  that  is  made  by  it  upon  the  Christian,  for 
watchfulness  and  prayerfulness.  For  although  the  be- 
liever has  the  new  heart,  or  holy  inclination,  produced  by 
liis  union  with  Christ,  he  still  has  the  remainders  of  the 
old  evil  inclination  proceeding  from  his  union  and  fall  with 
Adam.  These  relics  furnish  a  great  and  strong  reason  for 
the  apostle's  injunction  :  "  Watch  unto  prayer  ;  "  and  for 
the  Saviour's  urgency :  "  Watch  and  pray  lest  ye  entet 
into  temptation  ;  the  spirit  truly  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is 
weak." 

I.  The  first  characteristic  of  man's  sinful  disposition,  re- 
quiring watchfulness  upon  the  part  of  a  Christian,  is  its 
spontaneity.  This  is  that  quality  in  a  thing  which  causes 
it  to  move  of  itself.  The  living  spring,  speaking  meta- 
phorically, spontaneously  leaps  up  into  the  sunlight,  while 
standing  water  must  be  pumped  up.  Living  matter,  in 
animate  existence,  moves  spontaneously,  of  its  own  accord, 
while  the  corpse  must  be  moved  mechanically — must  be 
lifted  and  carried  out.  The  feelings  of  the  heart,  when  it 
is  full  of  life  and  hope,  burst  forth  spontaneously,  while 
the  manifestation  of  feeling  by  a  sad  and  hopeless  heart 
is  forced.  Spontaneity,  then,  is  the  power  of  self-motion. 
The  spring,  in  a  figure,  lifts  itself  up ;  living  matter  moves 


WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRATEEFULNESS.  835 

of  itself ;  and  warm  buoyant  feelings  require  nothing  but 
their  own  force  to  set  them  in  play. 

Now,  the  sinful  inclination,  or  disposition,  or  heart  of 
man  is  spontaneous  in  its  action.  Sin  in  all  its  forms, 
original  or  actual,  is  unforced.  Its  motion  is  self-motion. 
But  a  thing  that  can  move  of  itself  is  able  to  move  at  any 
moment,  and  is  liahle  to  move.  Did  the  movement  de- 
pend upon  something  other  than  self,  and  on  the  outside, 
there  would  not  be  so  much  liability.  Were  man  reluctantly 
urged  up  to  sin  by  some  other  agent  than  himself,  there 
would  be  less  call  for  watchfulness.  But  the  perfect  ease, 
and  pleasure,  and  spontaneity  with  which  he  does  his  own 
sinning,  calls  for  an  incessant  vigilance  not  to  do  it.  The 
imperfectly  sanctified  Christian  needs  not  to  make  a  special 
effort,  in  order  to  transgress.  If  he  simply  remains  care- 
less and  unwatchful,  the  self-moving  inclination  will  do  its 
own  work  without  any  struggle  on  his  part.  Hence,  he  is 
liable  to  sin  at  any  instant.  Within  him,  there  are  the 
relics  of  an  evil  disposition  which  by  its  very  nature,  and 
quality,  as  easily  and  readily  sends  up  evil  thoughts,  feel- 
ings, and  desires,  as  the  fire  of  a  furnace  sends  up  smoke 
and  sparks. 

Let  us  look  into  our  own  breasts,  and  see  if  there  are 
not  remainders  of  our  original  depravity  which,  if  not 
watched,  will  lead  us  into  disobedience  at  any  and  every 
moment.  Are  there  not  propensities  which  are  constant- 
ly able,  and  liable  to  start  into  action  ?  How  liable  we 
are  to  be  proud,  angry,  vain,  impure.  Or,  to  specify 
less  evanescent  feelings,  how  liable  we  are  to  worldliness, 
to  languor  and  deadness  respecting  heavenly  objects,  to 
carnal-mindedness.  And,  except  as  we  "  watch  unto 
prayer,"  have  we  any  security  that  they  will  not  spontane- 
ously rise  into  exercise  at  any  instant,  and  take  possession 
of  us  altogether  ? 


330  WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYERFULNESS. 

Our  success  in  overcoming  sin  depends  very  nmch  upon 
our  suspiciousness,  and  apprehensiveness — upon  our  fear- 
ing that  sin  may  get  the  mastery  at  any  time.  If  we  felt, 
as  St.  Paul  did  when  he  feared  lest  he  should  be  a  cast- 
away, that  underneath,  in  the  depths  of  the  heart,  there  are 
spontaneous  inclinations  constantly  liable  to  come  up  to  the 
surface  and  acquire  power  by  having  a  free  exercise,  we 
should  watch  and  pray  as  unceasingly  as  he  did.  For, 
these  sinful  propensities,  if  kept  down  in  the  regenerate 
soul,  will  finally  die  out.  It  is  not  so  with  the  unre- 
generate.  He  who  substitutes  morality  for  religion,  and 
attempts  to  regulate  and  repress  his  sinful  inclination 
without  crying  importunately  to  God  for  a  clean  heart,  and 
a  right  spirit — he  who  tries  to  make  the  fruit  good,  without 
first  making  the  tree  good — this  man  labors  in  vain.  For 
though  he  bury  his  evil  propensities  for  a  time,  they  will 
live  underground.  Toiling  hard,  he  may  choke  down  his 
pride  for  this  hour,  but  in  the  verj^  next  it  comes  up  in 
ten-fold  strength.  By  dint  of  great  effort,  he  may  wrestle 
down  his  envy  and  ill-will  as  he  meets  this  fellow-man, 
but  it  rises  before  he  thinks  of  it,  on  seeing  the  next  man 
that  he  dislikes.  There  is  nothing  within  the  unrenewed 
man  that  can  cope  with,  and  subdue  the  evil  inclination — 
no  faith,  hope,  love,  and  peace ;  no  new  heart  and  right 
spirit,  with  which  to  wage  war  with  the  sinful  nature. 
Hence,  it  is  a  fight  without  armor ;  a  dead  lift  without 
any  purchase.  But  the  believer  has  been  born  of  the 
Spirit.  There  is  within  him  a  positive  principle  of  faith, 
and  love,  and  holy  life,  implanted  by  the  Holy  Ghost  in 
the  depths  of  the  soul,  which  will  ultimately  slay  all  sin, 
provided  only  that  sin  be  kept  down.  If,  by  watching  the 
remainders  of  our  wrong  disposition,  we  will  prevent 
them  from  coming  forth  into  thoughts,  words,  and  acts ; 
if  we  will  confine  them,  and  keep  them  side  by  side  with 


WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYERFULNESS.  337 

the  "  new  man,"  and  compel  them  to  stay  down  in  the 
depths  of  the  soul,  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  will  eventually 
pierce  them  and  kill  them  with  a  total  and  everlasting 
death.  If,  on  the  contrary,  we  are  unwatchf ul  and  prayer- 
less,  and  allow  indwelling  sin  to  have  free  play  and  exer- 
cise, we  have  no  reason  to  expect  that  it  will  ever  be 
slain.  Can  religion  in  the  heart  conquer  sin  in  the  heart, 
if  we  do  not  bring  the  two  into  close  contact,  and  conflict  ? 
How  can  godliness  get  the  victory,  if  we  allow  sinfulness 
to  flee  away  and  rush  out  into  life  and  action,  and  give  it 
a  fair  field  ?  No,  we  must  watch  these  remains  of  our 
sinful  nature  which  are  so  liable  to  move,  and  which  unless 
repressed  move  of  themselves.  We  must  compel  them  to 
stay  down,  until  God  the  Spirit  by  constantly  coming 
into  contact  with  them  has  killed  them  stone  dead,  never 
to  stir  again.  If  we  repress  the  outbursts  of  sin,  we  shall 
discover  with  joy  and  courage  that  the  sinful  inclination  is 
really  becoming  weaker  and  weaker,  and  the  new  principle 
of  divine  love  stronger  and  stronger.  We  shall  find  the 
dying  spasms  of  sin  becoming  more  and  more  feeble,  until, 
O  wonderful  event !  sin  is  completely  and  forever  dead  in 
the  soul. 

11.  A  second  characteristic  of  man's  sinful  disposition, 
requiring  watchfulness  and  prayerf ulness  in  the  Christian, 
is  the  fact  that  it  can  be  tenvpted  and  solicited  to  move,  at 
any  moment. 

We  have,  thus  far,  spoken  of  the  power  which  sin  pos- 
sesses of  moving  of  itself,  spontaneously  ;  of  that  quality, 
by  virtue  of  which  it  does  not  need  any  particular  solicita- 
tion, in  order  to  its  exercise.  Our  sinful  inclination  pos- 
sesses this  characteristic  ;  for  do  we  need  any  particular 
urging,  or  tempting,  to  be  worldly  minded,  and  to  live  away 
from  God?  Is  it  not  our  natural  disposition  to  do  this  ; 
and  must  we  be  specially  provoked  to  it  ?  But  we  are  now 
15 


338  WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYERFULNESS. 

to  speak  of  that  additional  characteristic  of  man's  sinful 
disposition,  by  virtue  of  which  it  is  capable  of  being  stim- 
ulated and  elicited  bj  temptations ;  and  if  we  should 
watch  unto  prayer  because  sin  can  move  of  itself,  most 
certainly  should  we  because  it  can  be  solicited  to  move, 
and  we  live  in  a  world  full  of  such  solicitations.  If  gun- 
powder were  liable  to  self -explosion  by  virtue  of  its  own 
inherent  properties,  we  should  watch  it  most  carefully  even 
if  we  were  to  keep  it  like  truth  at  the  bottom  of  a  well  ; 
but  if  we  were  compelled  to  store  it  in  a  forge  continually 
full  of  sparks,  there  would  be  no  limit  to  our  vigilance  lest 
it  should  be  ignited  by  some  one  of  them. 

How  easily  is  the  remaining  sin  in  us  tempted  and 
drawn  out  into  exercise  by  tempting  objects,  and  how  full 
the  world  is  of  such  objects.  A  hard  word,  an  unkind 
look,  a  displeasing  act  on  the  part  of  another,  will  start  sin 
into  motion,  instanter.  Wealth,  fame,  pleasure,  fashion, 
houses,  lands,  titles,  husbands,  wives,  children,  friends — 
in  brief,  all  creation — has  the  power  to  educe  the  sinful 
nature  of  man.  He  is  continually  coming  in  contact  with 
things  that  allure  him  to  transgress  God's  law.  He  is 
surrounded  by  them.  He  is  buried  in  them.  He  is 
touched  at  a  million  points  by  the  temptations  of  earth. 
Look  at  our  own  situation,  as  we  find  it  eveiy  day  of  our 
lives.  See  how  we  are  encircled  by  objects,  every  one  of 
which  is  competent  to  start  the  old  carnality  into  vigorous 
action.  See  what  temptations  come  from  our  business, 
and  how  many  they  are.  See  what  solicitations  come  from 
our  families,  and  how  many  and  strong  they  are.  Con- 
eider  what  inducements  to  forget  God,  and  to  transgress 
his  commandments,  come  from  the  worldly  or  the  gay  so- 
ciety in  which  we  move.  Is  not  the  powder  in  the  midst 
of  the  sparks  ?  If  unwatchful  and  prayerless,  it  is  certain 
and  inevitable  that  we  shall  yield  to  these  temptations. 


WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYERFULNESS.  339 

How  can  we  prevent  sin  from  breaking  forth,  tempted  and 
allured  as  it  is  at  all  points,  if  we  do  not  "  watch  unto 
prayer  ? "  Why,  but  because  we  do  not  soberly  watch  like 
soldiers  on  guard,  are  we  so  much  under  the  power  of 
temptations  ?  Why,  but  because  we  do  not  importunately 
pray,  have  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the  eye, 
and  the  pride  of  life,  such  a  disastrous  influence  at  this 
very  moment  upon  our  professed  piety  ? 

The  fact,  then,  that  temptations  are  liable  to  elicit  the 
remaining  corruption  in  the  Christian's  heart,  is  a  strong 
reason  why  he  should  obey  the  apostle's  injunction  in  the 
text.  Says  the  saintly  and  "  white-robed "  Leighton : 
"  The  children  of  God  often  find  to  their  grief,  that  cor- 
ruptions which  they  thought  had  become  cold  dead,  stir, 
and  rise  up  again,  and  set  upon  them.  A  passion  or  lust 
that  after  some  great  stroke  lay  a  long  while  as  dead, 
stirred  not,  and  therefore  they  thought  to  have  heard  no 
more  of  it,  though  it  shall  never  recover  fully  again  to  be 
lively  as  before,  yet  will  revive  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
molest  and  possibly  to  foil  them  yet  again.  Therefore  it 
is  continually  necessary  that  they  live  in  arms,  and  put 
them  not  off  to  their  dying  day."  ' 

III.  A  third  characteristic  of  man's  innate  disposition 
requiring  watchfulness  and  prayer,  is  the  fact  that  it  ac- 
quires the  habit  of  being  moved  by  temptation. 

It  is  more  difficult  to  stop  a  thing  that  has  the  habit  of 
motion,  than  one  that  has  not,  because  habit  is  a  second 
nature  and  imparts  additional  force  to  the  first  one.  This 
is  eminently  true  of  sin,  which  by  being  allowed  an  habitual 
motion  becomes  so  powerful  that  few  overcome  it.  The 
great  majority  of  wrong  habits  that  have  been  formed  in 
human  hearts  were  never  broken  up — are  everlasting  things. 

'  Leighton :  On  1  Peter  iv.  1. 


340  WATCHFULNESS  AND   PRAYEEFULNESS. 

The  drunkards  who  have  left  their  cups,  the  gamblers  who 
have  reformed,  the  thieves  who  have  become  honest  men, 
the  liars  who  have  ceased  lying,  the  unchaste  who  have  be- 
come pure,  and  the  profane  who  have  forsaken  their  oaths, 
are  very  greatly  in  the  minority.  Miserable  indeed  is  that 
soul  which  allows  sin  to  strengthen  and  fortify  itself  by 
constant  exercise.  Even  if  it  is  eventually  overcome  by  the 
grace  of  God,  it  will  only  be  by  resisting  unto  blood. 
"  Because,"  says  an  old  divine,  "  the  nature  of  habits  is 
like  that  of  crocodiles  ;  they  grow  as  long  as  they  live  ;  and 
if  they  come  to  obstinacy  or  confirmation,  they  are  in  hell 
already,  and  can  never  return  back.  For  as  Pannonian 
bears,  when  they  have  clasped  a  dart  in  the  region  of  their 
liver,  wheel  themselves  upon  the  wound,  and  with  anger 
and  malicious  revenge  strike  the  deadly  barb  deeper,  and 
cannot  be  quit  from  that  fatal  steel,  but  in  flying  bear 
along  that  which  themselves  make  the  instrument  of  a 
more  hasty  death,  so  is  every  vicious  person  struck  with  a 
deadly  wound,  and  his  own  hands  force  it  into  the  enter- 
tainments of  the  heart,  and  because  it  is  painful  to  draw  it 
forth  by  a  sharp  and  salutary  repentance,  he  still  rolls  and 
turns  upon  his  wound,  and  carries  his  death  in  his  bowels, 
where  it  first  entered  by  choice,  and  then  dwelt  by  love, 
and  at  last  shall  finish  the  tragedy  by  Divine  judgments 
and  an  unalterable  decree."  ' 

Inward  sin,  in  an  unwatchful  and  prayerless  person, 
inevitably  acquires  the  habit  of  being  moved  by  tempta- 
tion. He  falls  gradually  into  such  a  state,  that  whenever  an 
object  solicits  his  remaining  corruption  he  yields  uniformly, 
and  with  little  or  no  resistance.  He  who  is  in  such  a  case 
is  on  most  dangerous  ground.  For  says  the  apostle  John, 
"  Whosoever  sinneth  hath  not  seen  God,  neither  known 

'  Jeremy  Taylor's  Sermon,  on  Growth  in  Sin. 


WATCHFULNESS   AND   PEAYERFULNESS.  341 

him  " — by  which  is  meant,  as  the  context  shows,  "  Who- 
soever sinneth  hahitually  hath  not  seen  God,  neither 
known  him."  We  may  be  surprised  once  into  sin  as  Peter 
was ;  we  may  fall  once  into  sin  as  David  did ;  and  upon 
weeping  bitterly  as  did  the  first,  and  crying  for  mercy  out 
of  a  crushed  heart  as  did  the  last,  the  atoning  blood  of 
Christ  shall  cleanse  our  conscience  again.  But  we  cannot 
self-indulgently  sin  on,  and  on,  and  commit  the  very  same 
wicked  thing  day  after  day,  and  feel  that  we  are  forgiven, 
or  hope  to  be  forgiven. 

The  chances,  if  we  may  use  such  a  word,  are  against  the 
conquest  of  habitual  sins,  because  of  the  strong  power 
which  they  acquire  over  the  voluntary  faculty.  The  more 
usual  a  sin  becomes  in  a  man's  experience,  the  weaker  the 
will  to  resist  it  becomes ;  and  hence  in  the  drunkard,  for 
example,  habit,  even  in  this  life,  has  almost  annihilated 
will  to  good.  Just  so  fast  as  the  habit  of  intoxication 
gains  upon  him,  just  so  fast  does  he  lose  his  power  of  self- 
control.  The  one  force  is  antagonistic  to  the  other,  and 
one  exists  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  other.  The  inebri- 
ate gradually  ceases  to  be  his  own  man,  and  comes  to  belong 
to  the  appetite  for  rum.  This  owns  him,  and  uses  him.  It 
starves  him  with  hunger,  and  pinches  him  with  cold,  and 
strips  him  of  character,  and  deprives  him  of  the  common 
human  feelings,  and  does  with  him  just  as  it  pleases. 

For  a  thoughtful  observer,  there  is  something  strictly 
awful  in  beholding  the  paralyzing  and  destructive  power 
which  sin,  when  habitually  indulged,  acquires  over  the  hu- 
man will.  The  self -gratifying  propensity,  by  being  allowed 
to  develop  itself  unwatched  and  unhindered,  slowly  but 
surely  eats  out  all  virtuous  moral  force  as  rust  eats  out  a 
steel  spring,  until  the  being  in  the  terrible  bitter  end  be- 
comes all  habit  and  all  sin.  "  Sin  when  it  is  finished 
bringeth  forth  death."  (James  i.  15.)     In  the  final  stage  of 


342  WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYERFULNESS. 

this  process,  the  guilty  self -determining  agent  reaches  that 
dreadful  state  where  resistance  to  evil  ceases  altogether, 
because  he  has  at  length  entirely  killed  out  the  energetic 
and  resolute  power  of  resistance  which  God  gave  him,  and 
meant  that  he  should  use,  and  which  if  he  had  used  would 
have  grown  stronger  and  stronger,  through  Divine  assist- 
ance, until  it  reached  the  state  of  confirmed  and  eternal 
holiness.  The  cravings  and  hankerings  of  unresisted  sin  at 
length  become  organic,  as  it  were,  and  drag  the  man,  and 
"  he  goeth  after  them  as  an  ox  goeth  to  the  slaughter,  or 
as  a  fool  to  the  correction  of  the  stocks,  till  a  dart  strike 
through  his  liver."  For  though  the  will  to  resist  sin 
may  die  out  of  a  man,  the  conscience  to  condemn  it  never 
can.  This  remains  eternally.  And  when  the  process  is 
complete,  and  the  responsible  creature  in  the  abuse  of  free 
agency  has  perfected  his  own  self-destruction,  and  his  will 
to  good  is  all  gone,  there  remain  these  two  in  his  immortal 
soul :  sin  and  conscience,  or,  in  the  Scripture  metaphor, 
"  brimstone  and  fire." 

The  "  ruin  "  of  an  immortal  soul  is  no  mere  figure  of 
speech.  There  is  no  ruin  in  the  whole  material  universe 
to  be  compared  with  it,  for  transcendent  awfulness.  The 
decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  was  a  great  catas- 
trophe, and  inspires  a  thoughtful  and  solemn  feeling  ;  but 
the  decline  and  eternal  fall  of  a  moral  being,  originally 
made  in  the  image  of  God,  is  a  stupendous  event.  When 
it  happens ;  when  the  Apocalyptic  angel  descends,  and 
cries  mightily  with  a  strong  voice  saying,  "  Babylon  the 
great  is  fallen,  is  fallen  ; "  the  kings  of  the  earth,  and  the 
merchants  of  the  earth,  "  stand  afar  off  to  see  the  smoke  of 
her  burning,  and  tremble  for  the  fear  of  her  torment." 
This  event,  thus  symbolically  shadowed  forth,  is  the  final 
result  of  sin  in  a  self-determining  will — the  finished  con- 
sequence of  permitting  a  sinful  inclination  to  compact  and 


WATCHFITLlSrESS   AND   PRAYERFULNESS.  343 

confirm  itself  by  habitual  indulgence,  until  it  destroys  the 
power  of  resistance,  and  the  being  is  hopelessly  ruined  and 
lost. 

We  have  thus  mentioned  and  illustrated  three  reasons 
derived  from  the  intrinsic  nature  of  sin,  why  Christians 
should  "  watch  unto  prayer."  Sin  is  spontaneous,  and 
therefore  is  able  to  move  at  any  instant.  Sin  can  be 
solicited  by  temptation,  and  therefore  is  liable  to  move  at 
any  instant.  Sin  can  become  habitual,  and  habit  is  a  second 
nature  destroying  the  power  of  resistance.  Much  that  has 
been  said  applies  to  sin  in  its  general  aspects,  as  pertaining 
to  man  universally  ;  but  so  far  as  this  point  is  concerned 
we  must  dismiss  it  with  the  single  remark,  that  from  the 
very  nature  of  sin  and  of  the  soul,  except  a  man  get  rid  of 
sin,  he  must  perish.  Sin  is  the  slow,  and  sure,  and  eternal 
suicide  of  a  human  will. 

But  let  us  make  an  application  of  this  subject  to  our- 
selves, as  imperfectly  sanctified  believers.  We  cannot 
think  of  entering  heaven  with  a  mixture  of  sin  in  our 
hearts.  We  must  acknowledge  that  the  relics  of  a  very 
profound  and  powerful  sinful  nature  are  still  within  us, 
which  interfere  with  our  peace,  keep  us  distant  from  God, 
and  are  hostile  to  spirituality  and  a  heavenly  mind.  How 
do  we  expect  that  these  remainders  of  corruption  are  to  be 
destroyed ;  and  how  do  we  expect  to  obtain  that  holiness 
without  which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord  ?  Do  we  fre- 
quently raise  these  important  questions ;  and  are  we  prop- 
erly anxious  to  become  pure  and  saintly  ? 

Perhaps  we  are  in  a  careless  state,  and  are  indulging  in 
some  particular  sin  with  little  or  no  compunction.  If  so, 
we  do  well  to  remind  ourselves  that  anxiety,  and  even  dis- 
tressing doubts,  would  be  a  more  hopeful  condition  than 
is  this  state  of  lethargic  indulgence.  For,  "  seest  thou  a 
man   wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a 


344  WATCHFULNESS   AND   PRAYEKFULNESS. 

fool  than  of  him."  And,  seest  thou  a  church  member 
habitually  committing  and  enjoying  a  particular  sin,  and 
carelessly  deeming  himself  to  be  safe  ?  the  angels  looked 
down  upon  him  with  more  hope  when  he  was  an  inquiring 
and  self-despairing  man,  than  they  ^o  now. 

But  perhaps  we  do  feel  our  sinfulness,  and  yet  do  not 
make  the  effort  that  results  in  its  conquest.  Perhaps  we 
indulge  in  known  sin,  and  experience  a  certain  kind  and 
degree  of  sorrow  regarding  it,  but  do  not  cut  off  the  right 
hand,  and  do  not  pluck  out  the  right  eye.  This  moral 
condition,  also,  is  one  of  great  danger.  Christ,  it  is  true, 
does  not  "  break  the  bruised  reed."  "  He  knoweth  our 
frame,  he  remembereth  that  we  are  dust,  he  is  very  pitiful 
and  of  tender  mercy."  But  we  must  not  suppose  that  the 
feeling  of  mere  regret,  with  no  active  resistance,  is  all  that 
he  demands  from  us.  We  must  not  lay  the  flattering 
unction  to  our  souls,  that  God  commiserates  our  indolence 
and  ineffectual  efforts.  These  efforts  are  ineffectual,  be- 
cause we  are  not  sufficiently  in  earnest,  and  are  unfaithful 
in  seeking  Divine  help.  We  restrain  prayer.  We  let  down 
our  watch.  We  must  not  deceive  ourselves  into  the  belief 
that  God  indulgently  pities  our  unfortunate  condition,  as 
we  may  call  it  in  our  hearts.  Sin  is  guilt.  All  sin  is 
guilt.  Christ  poured  out  his  blood  to  atone  for  it — all  of 
it — and  we  must  resist  unto  blood  in  order  to  overcome  it 
— all  of  it.  The  path  of  duty  and  safety  is  plain.  All 
will  be  well,  if  we  watch  more  than  we  have,  lest  we  fall 
into  temptation  ;  if  we  pray  more  than  we  have,  for  power 
over  sin.  Vigilance  and  supplication  must  pervade  our 
whole  life  as  believers.  The  Christian  must  stand  constantly 
braced,  and  expecting  to  meet  a  foe  at  every  step.  Every 
nerve  should  be  tense,  and  every  muscle  tight  drawn.  And 
this,  with  an  eye  ever  looking  "up  to  the  hills  from 
whence  cometh  his  help,"  should  be  his  attitude  through 


WATCHFULNESS   AND   PEAYEEFULNESS.  345 

life.  True,  it  will  be  a  life  of  sweat,  and  toil,  and  some- 
times of  aching  pain  ;  but  there  will  be  some  lulls  in  the 
fight,  and  some  ely slums  in  the  pilgrimage,  and  the  ever- 
lasting rest  will  be  all  the  sweeter  for  the  unceasing  effort. 
That  is  a  blessed  moment  for  the  Christian,  when  after  his 
long  watch,  and  weary  conflict,  and  fatiguing  strain,  he  is 
suddenly  called  into  that  walled  city,  "  at  once  a  fortress, 
and  a  temple,"  over  whose  safety  God  watches ;  where  he 
can  lie  down  beside  the  peaceful  river  of  the  water  of  life 
without  any  solicitude,  and  where  the  grapple  and  tug  of 
spiritual  warfare  are  over  for  eternity. 

"  Watch  and  pray  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation.  Watch 
therefore :  for  ye  know  neither  the  daj'-  nor  the  hour, 
wherein  the  Son  of  man  cometh.  Blessed,"  says  the 
Saviour — and  this  word  has  a  world  of  meaning  coming 
from  his  Divine  lips — "  blessed  are  those  servants  whom 
the  Lord  when  he  cometh  shall  find  watching." 
15* 


SEEMON  XXni. 

UNCEASING  PRAYER. 
1  Thessaloniaks  v.  17. — "Pray  without  ceasing." 


The  apostle  Paul,  in  enjoining  the  duty  of  unceasing 
prayer  upon  all  Christians,  does  not  bind  upon  them  a 
heavy  burden  which  he  himself  will  not  move  with  one  of 
his  fingers.  He  does  not  regard  it  as  a  burden  but  a 
privilege,  and  he  presents  them  an  actual  example  of  con- 
tinual supplication  to  a  faithful  and  prayer-hearing  God, 
in  this  world  of  temptation  and  this  valley  of  tears.  He 
tells  the  Roman  brethren,  that  "  God  is  his  witness,  whom 
he  serves  with  his  spirit,  in  the  gospel  of  his  Son,  that 
without  ceasing  he  makes  mention  of  them  always  in  his 
prayers."  To  the  Thessalonian  church  he  says  :  "  We  give 
thanks  to  God  always  for  you  all,  making  mention  of  you 
in  our  prayers,  remembering  without  ceasing  your  work  of 
faith,  and  labor  of  love,  and  patience  of  hope."  And  in 
another  paragraph  of  this  same  Epistle,  he  assures  them 
that  he  "  thanks  God  without  ceasing,  because  when  they 
received  the  word  of  God,  which  they  heard  first  from 
him,  they  received  it  not  as  the  word  of  men  but  of  God." 
To  his  dearly  beloved  pupil  Timothy,  he  writes :  "  I  thank 
God,  whom  I  serve  from  my  forefathers  with  pure  con- 
science, that  without  ceasing  I  have  remembrance  of  thee 
in  my  prayers  day  and  night." 


UNCEASING  PRAYER.  347 

A  man  who  could  bear  such  testimony  respecting  him- 
self, in  the  matter  of  prayer,  surely  can  speak  out  in  bold 
and  stimulating  tones  to  all  Christians,  as  he  does  in  the 
text :  "  Pray  without  ceasing."  He  has  done  so  himself. 
He  knows  the  preciousness  of  the  privilege.  He  has 
"  tasted  and  seen  that  the  Lord  is  good.  In  the  day  when 
he  cried,  God  answered  him,  and  strengthened  him  with 
strength  in  his  soul." 

The  subject  of  Prayer,  which  is  suggested  by  the  text, 
is  a  comprehensive  one.  The  theme  is  fertile.  Perhaps 
no  topic  has  engrossed  more  of  the  thought  of  wise  and 
good  men,  than  the  communion  which  the  soul  of  man 
is  permitted  to  hold  with  its  Maker.  We  purpose  to 
consider  two  aspects  of  the  general  subject :  First,  that 
prayer  must  be  incessant  from  its  very  nature ;  and,  second- 
ly, that  unceasing  prayer  is  feasible. 

I.  Observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  prayer  must  be  un- 
ceasing, from  the  nature  of  the  act.  Prayer  is  intercourse 
with  God,  and  God  is  the  being  in  whom  the  creature  lives 
and  moves.  To  stop  praying,  therefore,  is  to  break  the 
connection  that  is  established  between  the  feeble  and  de- 
pendent worm  of  the  dust,  and  the  almighty  One.  "We 
perceive  immediately  that  a  man  must  breathe  without 
ceasing,  because  by  the  function  of  breathing  his  lungs, 
and  thereby  his  whole  physical  system,  are  kept  in  right 
relation  and  connection  with  the  atmosphere.  His  body 
lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being,  in  atmospheric  air,  and 
therefore  the  instant  the  process  of  inspiration  and  ex- 
piration is  stopped,  it  is  cut  off  from  the  source  of  physical 
vitality  and  dies.  For  this  reason,  if  a  man  breathe  at  all, 
he  must  breathe  all  the  while.  From  the  very  nature  of 
breath,  we  infer  the  necessity  of  constant  breathing. 

We  are  too  apt  to  forget  that  such  comparisons  as  these, 
instead  of  losing  their  force  when  applied  to  religious  and 


348  UNCEASING   PRAYER. 

spiritual  subjects,  are  truer  than  ever.  When  I  say  to  you, 
that  a  man's  body  lives,  moves,  and  has  its  existence  in 
atmospheric  air,  and  that  it  must  swim  in  it  as  a  fish  swims 
in  the  sea,  in  order  to  live  and  breathe,  you  take  me  liter- 
ally. You  believe  and  are  certain,  that  continual  com- 
munication must  be  kept  up  between  the  human  lungs  and 
tlie  outward  air,  in  order  to  human  life.  But  when  the 
apostle  Paul  tells  you,  as  he  did  the  philosophers  of  Athens, 
that  the  human  soul  lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being  in  God, 
why  are  you,  and  why  are  all  men  so  much  inclined  to  take 
him  figuratively,  and  to  put  such  an  interpretation  upon 
the  language  as  shears  it  of  its  full  and  literal  force  ?  It  is 
as  strictly  true  that  the  religious  being  and  the  eternal 
wants  of  the  soul  depend  upon  communication  with  God, 
and  will  suffer  and  die  without  it,  as  that  the  physical 
nature  and  needs  of  the  body  depend  upon  communication 
with  the  vital  air,  and  will  suffocate  without  it.  Each  state- 
ment is  literally  true  within  its  own  sphere,  and  with  ref- 
erence to  the  specific  things  to  which  it  refers. 

But  it  may  be  objected  that  if  such  is  the  fact,  why  is  it 
that  mankind  do  not  invariably  and  constantly  suffer  dis- 
tress, when  this  communion  with  God  ceases  to  take  place  ? 
Why  are  not  prayerless  men  in  unceasing  anguish  of  mind  ? 
If  the  human  body  is  removed  from  the  free  open  air  of 
heaven,  and  shut  up  in  the  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta,  the  re- 
port comes  instantaneously  from  the  entire  physical  organ- 
ization, that  the  established  relation  between  the  fieshly 
nature  and  the  material  world  has  been  interfered  with. 
The  lungs  begin  to  heave  and  pant,  the  perspiration  oozes 
out  of  every  pore,  the  face  is  fiushed  with  crimson,  and 
the  eyes  glare  and  stare  in  their  sockets.  But  the  human 
soul  exists  from  day  to  day  without  intercourse  with  its 
Creator,  and  yet  we  perceive  no  indications  of  mental  dis- 
tress.    The  worldling  puts  up  no  prayer,  and  is  out  of  all 


UNCEASING  PEAYER.  349 

communication  with  God ;  but  we  do  not  see  in  his  mental 
experience  any  signs  or  tokens  of  spiritual  agony,  corre- 
sponding to  those  which  we  have  mentioned  in  the  in- 
stance of  physical  suffocation.  This  worldling,  in  the 
Scripture  phrase,  is  "  without  God  in  the  world,"  and  yet 
for  aught  that  appears  he  is  enjoying  existence,  and  would 
be  willing  to  live  on  in  this  style  indefinitely.  Ask 
this  carnally  minded  man,  if  he  would  take  a  lease  of 
prayerless,  godless  life  for  one  hundred  years,  and  he 
answers,  Yea.  How  does  this  tally  with  the  doctrine  that 
the  human  soul  needs  intercourse  with  God,  with  as  press- 
ing and  indispensable  a  necessity  as  the  lungs  need  air  ? 

To  this  we  reply,  that  as  man  is  composed  of  two 
natures,  so  he  is  capable  of  living  two  lives.  By  his  body 
he  is  connected  with  earth  and  time ;  by  his  soul  he  is 
connected  with  God  and  eternity.  He  is  capable  there- 
fore, and  it  is  his  original  destination,  to  be  associated  with 
both  of  these  worlds  at  one  and  the  same  time,  in  a  just 
and  proper  manner,  cherishing  a  pure,  and  temperate,  and 
happy  life  in  the  body,  and  a  holy  and  blessed  life  in  the 
soul.  This  would  have  been  his  condition  had  he  not 
apostatized  ;  and  in  this  case  his  double  and  complex  being 
would  have  been  thoroughly  alive,  in  all  its  parts.  There 
would  have  been  no  death  of  any  kind  in  him,  and  no 
death  could  have  assailed  him. 

But  for  the  very  reason  that  he  possesses  two  natures, 
and  can  live  two  lives,  it  is  possible  for  him  to  gratify  the 
desires  of  only  one  nature,  and  to  lead  only  one  life,  here 
upon  earth.  It  is  possible  in  this  state  of  existence,  for 
the  flesh  to  live  on  and  enjoy  itself,  while  the  spirit  is 
dead  in  trespasses  in  sins.  It  is  possible  for  three-score 
years  and  ten,  for  a  man  to  put  himself  in  absorbing  com- 
munion with  earth  and  time,  and  to  cut  himself  loose  from 
all  intercourse  with  God  and  heaven,  and  yet  not  be  in 


350  UNCEASING   PRAYER. 

mental  distress,  for  the  reason  that  the  lower  nature  is 
living  on  and  enjoying  itself.  One  life  temporarily  takes 
the  place  of  the  other,  and  thus  it  is  that  a  human  crea- 
ture, here  upon  earth,  can  pamper  his  body  while  he 
starves  his  soul;  can  live  in  worldly  pleasure,  while  the 
nobler  part  of  him  is  out  of  all  connection  with  its  appro- 
priate objects. 

There  is  a  class  of  animals  that  are  amphibious.  They 
are  capable  of  living  both  in  the  sea  and  upon  the  land. 
They  are  related  by  theu*  physical  structure  both  to  the 
air  and  the  water.  If  therefore  the  beaver,  for  example, 
is  for  a  season  debarred  from  the  river,  he  can  exist  upon 
the  shore  ;  or  if  he  is  temporarily  driven  from  the  shore, 
he  can  live  in  the  river.  These  amphibious  creatures  can 
dispense  with  communication  with  one  of  the  worlds  with 
which  they  are  constitutionally  connected,  because  they 
have  communication  with  the  other  one.  So  is  it  with 
man  here  in  time.  If  he  can  absorb  his  lower  nature  in 
the  objects  and  pursuits  of  sense,  he  is  able  to  dispense 
with  intercourse  between  God  and  his  higher  nature,  with- 
out distress.  If  the  amphibious  animal  can  breathe  upon 
the  land,  he  need  not  gasp  and  pant  upon  the  land,  like 
the  fish  when  taken  from  his  native  element. 

But  while  this  is  so,  it  is  none  the  less  true,  that  the 
soul  of  man  is  the  principal  part  of  him,  and  that  there- 
fore he  c&nnot  ^ermcmetitly  escape  distress,  if  out  of  com- 
munication with  God  and  heaven.  This  half-way  life,  of 
which  we  have  spoken,  is  not  possible  in  eternity.  No 
man  can  live  happily  in  sense  and  sin  forever  and  ever. 
These  amphibious  animals,  to  which  we  have  alluded, 
cannot  dwell  year  after  year  in  only  one  element.  This 
half-way  life  of  theirs  is  possible  only  for  a  short  time. 
The  whale  can  exist  for  a  while  in  the  unfathomed  depths 
to  which   the  harpoon    has  driven   him,   but  he  must 


UNCEASING  PEAYEE.  351 

sooner  or  later  come  to  the  surface  to  blow.  The  beaver 
cannot,  like  the  fish,  remain  permanently  in  the  watery 
element  to  which  he  has  fled  from  his  pursuer.  Each 
nature  asserts  its  rights  ultimately,  and  if  its  wants  are 
not  met  ultimately,  suffocation  and  agony  are  the  con- 
sequence. 

And  so  it  is  with  man's  double  nature,  and  the  two 
worlds  to  which  they  are  related.  For  a  few  short  years, 
man  can  live  a  half-way  life  without  great  inconvenience 
or  distress.  For  three-score  years  and  ten,  he  can  restrain 
prayer  and  stifle  the  soul,  and  not  feel  misery,  because  the 
body  is  thriving  and  happy.  But  he  cannot  live  in  this 
way  in  only  one  of  his  natures,  and  that  the  lowest  and 
meanest,  forever  and  ever.  He  must  at  some  time  or  other 
come  to  the  surface  for  breath.  The  wants  of  the  im- 
mortal spirit  must  ultimately  make  themselves  felt,  and 
no  gratification  of  the  bodily  desires  can  then  be  a  sub- 
stitute. 

It  is  in  this  manner,  that  we  prove  that  the  soul  of  man 
needs  God  in  the  same  organic,  and  constitutional  way, 
that  his  body  needs  air.  It  will  not  do  to  judge  of  the 
primitive  and  everlasting  necessities  of  a  rational  being,  by 
looking  at  his  pleasures  and  pains  in  this  brief  and  transi- 
tory mode  of  existence.  We  must  take  him  into  eternity, 
in  order  to  know  whether  he  can  suffocate  his  soul  and  be 
happy,  while  he  gives  only  his  body  light  and  air.  We 
must  look  at  him  beyond  the  tomb,  if  we  would  know 
whether  he  can  be  blessed  while  he  is  alive  to  sin,  and 
dead  to  righteousness.  We  must  remove  him  altogether 
from  earth,  to  see  whether  he  can  live  in  only  one  of  his 
natures  and  that  the  lowest  of  them. 

Returning  now  to  the  subject  of  prayer,  we  see,  after 
this  brief  discussion  of  the  true  relation  that  exists  between 
the  soul  of  man  and  the  Everlasting  God,  that  prayer  is 


352  UNCEASING   PRAYER. 

its  vital  breath,  and  that  therefore  it  must  be  unceasing 
from  its  very  nature.  We  cannot  appeal  to  the  experience 
of  a  prayerless  person  upon  the  point,  because  he  has 
none  ;  but  we  appeal  confidently  to  the  consciousness  of 
a  Christian,  and  ask  him  whether  a  complete  and  final 
cessation  of  prayer,  in  his  own  case,  would  not  work  the 
same  disastrous  consequences  in  his  mental  condition,  that 
the  stoppage  of  breath  would  in  his  physical.  Suppose 
that  a  cloud  should  overshadow  you,  and  a  voice  should 
come  out  of  the  cloud,  saying :  "  Pray  no  more ;  the  ear 
of  God  is  heavy  and  cannot  hear ; "  suppose,  in  other 
words,  that  that  calming,  sustaining,  strengthening,  and 
comforting  intercourse  which  your  spirit  has  been  per- 
mitted to  enjoy  with  God,  in  the  time  that  is  past,  were 
absolutely  foreclosed  and  shut  off.  Would  not  your  soul 
begin  to  gasp  and  struggle,  precisely  as  your  body  does 
when  the  atmospheric  air  is  expelled,  or  vitiated  by  a 
deadly  gas  ?  Blessed  be  the  mercy  of  God,  we  have  never 
been  put  to  the  trial,  and  therefore  can  only  conjecture 
what  our  mental  distress  would  be,  if  we  were  absolutely 
precluded  from  prayer  and  supplication.  What  a  sinking 
sensation  would  fill  the  heart  of  a  mourning  believer,  if, 
at  the  very  moment  when  death  had  come  into  his  house- 
hold, and  cut  down  a  life  to  save  which  he  would  gladly 
have  given  up  his  own,  he  should  find  it  impossible  to 
pray ;  if  he  should  discover  that  the  heavens  above  him 
were  brass,  and  the  earth  beneath  him  was  iron,  and  that 
no  cry  from  his  wailing,  sorrowing  spirit  could  ever  pierce 
the  heavens  again.  What  an  agony  would  swell  the  soul 
of  a  convicted  sinner,  if,  at  the  very  instant  when  the 
moral  law  was  coming  in  upon  him,  and  the  convictions  of 
guilt  and  the  fears  of  judgment  were  rising  and  surging 
within  him  like  waves  lashed  by  the  storm,  he  could  not 
cry  out :  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,"  because  there 


UNCEASING  PRAYER.  353 

was  no  longer  any  intercourse  between  the  creature  and 
the  Creator.  Man  has  become  so  accustomed  to  this  bless- 
ing and  privilege,  that  he  does  not  know  the  full  meaning 
and  richness  of  it.  Like  other  gifts  of  God,  nothing  but 
the  complete  and  absolute  deprivation  of  it  would  enable 
him  to  apprehend  the  infinity  of  the  good  which  is  granted 
to  a  feeble,  helpless  creature,  in  permitting  him  to  enjoy 
the  society  and  intercourse  of  the  great  and  glorious 
Creator. 

A  second  and  further  proof  that  prayer  is  unceasing  in 
its  nature  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  God  is  continually  the 
hearer  of  prayer.  An  incessant  appeal  supposes  an  in- 
cessant reply.  God  does  not  hear  his  people  to-day,  and 
turn  a  deaf  ear  to  them  to-morrow.  He  who  prays  to  God 
without  ceasing,  finds  that  God  hears  without  ceasing. 
Such  is  the  declaration  of  God  himself,  upon  this  point. 
When  Solomon  had  erected  the  temple,  and  had  dedicated 
it  as  a  house  of  prayer,  the  Most  High,  so  to  speak, 
localized  Himself  in  it,  and  promised  to  give  continual 
audience  to  all  sincere  worshippers  and  suppliants  there. 
"  The  Lord  appeared  to  Solomon  by  night,  and  said 
unto  him,  I  have  chosen  this  place  to  myself  for  an  house 
of  sacrifice.  Now  mine  eyes  shall  be  open,  and  mine 
ears  attent  unto  the  prayer  that  is  made  in  this  place. 
For  now  have  I  chosen  and  sanctified  this  house,  that 
my  name  may  be  there  forever^  and  mine  eyes  and  mine 
heart  shall  be  there  jperpetually T  (2  Chron.  viii.  12-16.) 
Had  there  been  from  that  time  to  this  an  unceasing 
volume  of  sincere  supplication  ascending  unto  God  with- 
in that  temple,  there  would  have  been  an  unceasing 
audience  upon  the  part  of  God  within  that  temple  from 
that  time  to  this.  Jehovah  is  faithful  to  his  promise, 
and  had  the  Jewish  nation  been  faithful  to  the  covenant 
which  God  made  with  Abraham ;  had  they  continued  to 


354  UNCEASING  PEAYER. 

observe  the  statutes  and  cominandments  of  the  Lord,  and 
to  worship  in  his  temple  in  the  beauty  of  holiness  down  to 
the  present  time ;  they  would  in  that  very  temple,  down 
to  this  very  moment,  have  found  that  God  is  immutably 
the  hearer  of  prayer.  There  is  not,  now,  one  stone  left 
upon  another,  of  that  magnificent  structure  which  Solomon 
built  for  the  honor  of  Jehovah,  and  the  Jewish  nation 
are  scattered  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven ;  but  this  does 
not  disprove  the  Divine  faithfulness  in  the  least.  If  there 
is  no  prayer,  there  can  of  course  be  no  answer  to  prayer. 
If  the  creature  ceases  to  pray,  God  of  necessity  ceases  to 
hear.  If  the  worshipper  ceases  to  go  into  the  temple, 
God,  of  course,  goes  out  of  it.  But  so  long  as  the  Jew,  or 
the  Gentile,  pours  out  his  soul  in  supplication,  he  will  find 
that  God  is  the  constant  hearer  of  supplication,  and  that 
he  changeth  not.  And  had  that  chosen  and  highly  favored 
people  continued  to  pray  like  Moses,  and  Samuel,  and 
David,  and  Nehemiah  ;  had  they  remained  true  to  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets ;  had  they  known  the 
day  of  their  visitation  from  the  Most  High,  when  the 
promised  Messiah,  the  Incarnate  God,  came  down  among 
them  ;  had  they  welcomed  the  Redeemer,  and  found  in  the 
gospel  of  the  New  Testament  only  the  blossom  and  bright 
consummate  flower  of  the  religion  of  their  fathers ;  their 
temple  would  be  still  standing,  and  prayer  would  still  be 
offered  in  it  as  of  old.  They  would  have  been  preserved 
a  chosen  generation  and  a  royal  priesthood,  down  to  the 
present  time.  Jehovah  himself  would  have  kept  them  as 
the  apple  of  the  eye,  amidst  all  the  mutations  and  down- 
fall of  empires.  The  stars  in  their  courses  would  have 
fought  for  them.  Persia,  Macedon,  Rome,  and  all  other 
kingdoms,  might  have  gone  to  ruin,  but  Israel  would  have 
stood,  to  show  that  the  Lord  is  upright,  that  he  is  a  rock, 
and  that  there  is  no  unfaithfulness  in  him. 


UNCEASING  PEAYEE.  355 

It  is  this  trutli  that  enables  us  to  interpret  rightly  those 
positive  and  unqualified  declarations  in  the  Old  Testament, 
concerning  the  everlasting  continuance  of  the  Jewish  Church 
and  State.  Consider  the  following,  which  is  a  part  of  the 
message  that  Nathan  the  prophet  was  commissioned  to 
deliver  to  David  the  King :  "  Thus  shalt  thou  say  unto 
my  servant  David,  thus  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  1  took 
thee  from  the  sheepcote,  even  from  following  the  sheep, 
that  thou  shouldest  be  ruler  over  my  people  Israel ;  and  1 
have  been  with  thee  whithersoever  thou  hast  walked,  and 
have  cut  off  all  thine  enemies  from  before  thee,  and  have 
made  thee  a  name  like  the  name  of  the  great  men  that  are 
in  the  earth.  Also  I  will  ordain  a  place  for  my  people 
Israel,  and  will  plant  them,  and  they  shall  dwell  in  their 
place,  and  shall  be  moved  no  more :  neither  shall  the 
children  of  wickedness  waste  them  any  more  as  at  the 
beginning.  And  it  shall  come  to  pass  when  thy  day  shall 
be  expired,  that  thou  must  go  to  be  with  thy  fathers,  that 
I  will  raise  up  thy  seed  after  thee  which  shall  be  of  thy 
sons  ;  and  I  will  establish  his  kingdom.  He  shall  build 
me  an  house,  and  I  will  establish  his  throne  forever.  1  will 
settle  him  in  mine  house,  and  in  my  'kingdom,  forever :  and 
his  throne  shall  be  established  forevermore.^^  (1  Chron.  xvii. 
7-14.)  The  primary  reference  in  all  this  is  to  the  spiritual 
kingdom  of  the  Messiah,  who  was  to  be  born  in  the  line  of 
David  and  Solomon,  and  the  prophecy  in  this  particular 
is  in  the  process  of  fulfilment,  and  will  be  fulfilled.  But 
there  is  also  a  secondary  promise  of  a  temporal  kingdom, 
and  a  continuance  of  the  Jewish  people  in  power  and  honor 
to  the  end  of  time.  And  had  they  been  faithful  to  the 
covenant  with  their  fathers,  every  jot  and  tittle  of  this 
positive  and  unqualified  promise  of  perpetual  earthly  pros- 
perity would  have  been  performed.  The  spirit  of  prayer, 
had  it  inspired  the  heart  of  the  Hebrew  nation  down  to 


356  UNCEASING  PEAYEK. 

the  present  time,  as  it  inspired  Moses,  Samuel,  Daniel,  and 
Nehemiah,  M^ould  have  met  with  a  continual  answer  from 
Him  who  sitteth  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth,  and  who  has 
revealed  Himself  as  the  hearer  of  prayer.  That  answer 
would  have  related  to  the  temporal  as  well  as  the  eternal 
welfare  of  the  covenant-keeping  people — for  godliness 
has  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  as  well  as  of  the 
life  that  is  to  come — and  whatever  changes  might  have  oc- 
curred in  other  nations  of  the  earth,  Israel  would  have 
remained  a  standing  monument  of  the  Divine  power  and 
faithfulness,  and  Jerusalem  would  still  have  been  the  city 
of  the  Great  King.  Nay,  in  this  case,  the  whole  history 
of  the  world  would  have  been  altered.  Jerusalem  upon 
earth,  like  the  Jerusalem  which  is  above,  would  then  have 
been  the  "  mother  of  us  all."  The  worship  of  the  true 
God,  and  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son,  would  have  overcome 
the  idolatry  of  the  secular  monarchies  and  emperors,  and 
the  world  would  have  been  evangelized  many  centuries 
since. 

And  what  is  true  of  a  people  is  true  of  an  individual. 
The  believer  who  prays  without  ceasing  finds  that  God 
hears  without  ceasing.  In  his  own  experience,  he  dis- 
covers that  the  Divine  ear  is  constantly  attent  to  the  voice 
of  his  supplication.  The  faintest  desire  meets  a  response. 
The  Being  with  whom  he  seeks  intercourse  stands  per- 
petually waiting.  The  immutability  of  God  is  demon- 
strated to  him  in  the  fact,  that  go  whenever  he  will  to  the 
throne  of  grace  he  finds  a  listening  ear,  and  an  outstretched 
hand.  "  The  young  lions  do  lack,  and  suffer  hunger ;  but 
they  that  seek  the  Lord  shall  not  want  any  good  thing. 
The  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the  righteous,  and  his  ears 
are  open  unto  their  cry."  God  as  the  Creator  has  estab- 
lished such  a  relation  between  the  body  of  man  and  the 
vital  air,  that  there  must  be  a  continual  supply  of  air  ;  and 


UNCEASING  PRAYER.  357 

therefore  he  has  encompassed  him  with  a  whole  atmos- 
phere which  is  surrounding  him  upon  all  sides,  and  press- 
ing upon  him  at  every  point.  The  instant  he  inhales  with 
his  lungs,  he  finds  the  invigorating  element  ready  for  him. 
And  God  as  the  Saviour  has  established  such  a  relation 
between  the  renewed  soul  and  himself,  that  there  must  be 
an  unceasing  intercommunion ;  and  therefore,  in  the  gospel 
of  his  Son,  he  proffers  himself  to  his  redeemed  creature, 
and  whenever  the  heart  pants  out  its  desire,  it  finds  its 
ever-present  supply.  The  unceasing  prayer  is  met  by  the 
unceasing  answer. 

II.  We  pass  now,  in  the  second  place,  to  inquire  into 
\hQ feasibility  of  unceasing  prayer.  How  is  a  man  to  pray 
without  ceasing  ? 

Before  proceeding  to  the  immediate  answer  to  this  in- 
quiry, it  is  obvious  to  remark,  that  the  fact  that  prayer  is 
the  only  mode  by  which  the  creature  here  upon  earth  can 
hold  intercourse  with  his  Maker,  goes  to  prove  that  such 
an  intercourse  must  be  practicable.  It  must  be  a  possible 
thing  for  man  to  enter  into  communication  with  God. 
It  cannot  be,  that  the  great  and  wise  Creator  has  called  a 
finite  and  dependent  creature  into  existence,  and  cut  him 
off  from  all  access  to  Himself.  So  far  as  God  is  con- 
cerned ;  so  far  as  the  original  arrangements  in  and  by 
creation  are  concerned  ;  it  must  not  only  be  possible,  but 
a  duty  for  the  human  soul  not  only  to  converse  with  God, 
but  to  hold  an  uninterrupted  converse  with  him.  We 
can  no  more  suppose  that  our  Creator  would  have 
made  a  rational  and  immortal  spirit  in  his  own  image  and 
likeness,  without  any  power  and  privilege  of  communing 
with  his  Maker,  than  that  he  would  have  created  a  pair  of 
lungs  without  any  atmosphere  in  which  they  could  ex- 
pand. One  of  the  most  profound  and  spiritual  divines, 
of  one  of  the  most  thoughtful  and  spiritual  periods  in  the 


358  UNCEASING   PRAYER. 

history  of  the  Church — we  mean  John  Howe — has  written 
at  length  upon  what  he  denominates  the  "  conversable- 
ness  "  of  God ;  namely,  those  characteristics  in  the  Deity 
that  incline  him  to  hear  prayer,  to  listen  to  praise  and 
adoration,  and  to  receive  from  the  whole  rational  universe 
the  homage  which  is  due  to  his  infinite  and  glorious  nature 
and  name.'  He  shows  conclusively  that  the  Creator,  from 
his  very  constitutional  qualities,  delights  to  put  himself  in 
communication  with  his  rational  creation  ;  that  he  does 
not  shut  himself  up  in  the  isolation  of  his  trinity,  and  his 
eternity,  and  enjoy  his  own  absolute  self-sufficiency,  but 
overflows,  with  the  fulness  of  his  being,  into  the  craving 
and  recipient  natures  of  angels  and  men.  This  he  does, 
not  because  he  is  dependent  upon  his  creatures  for  his 
own  enjoyment,  but  simply  that  he  may  make  them  holy 
and  happy.  •  St.  Paul  taught  this  to  the  philosophers  of 
Athens.  "  God  that  made  the  world,  and  all  things 
therein,  seeing  that  he  is  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands ;  neither  is 
worshipped  with  men's  hands,  as  though  he  needed  any- 
thing, seeing  he  giveth  to  all  life,  and  breath,  and  all 
things.  And  hath  made  of  our  blood  all  nations  of  the 
earth,  for  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  and  hath 
determined  the  times  before  appointed,  and  the  bounds  of 
their  habitation  ;  that  they  should  seeh  the  Lord,  if  haply 
they  might  feel  after  him  and  find  him,  though  he  be  not 
far  from  any  one  of  us :  for  in  him  we  live,  and  move, 
and  have  our  being."  (Acts  xvii.  24-28.)  This  "con- 
versableness  ;  "  this  benevolent  and  condescending  willing- 
ness to  hold  intercourse  with  a  race  of  finite  creatures  who 
cannot  by  any  possibility  do  anything  to  benefit  God,  and 
add  either  to  his  happiness  or  his  power,  and  who  can- 

•  Howe :  Living  Temple,  Ch.  VI. 


UNCEASING   PRAYER.  369 

not  by  any  possibility  make  themselves  profitable  to  the 
Most  High  ;  this  spontaneous  and  generous  readiness  to 
give  to  the  creature  everything  beneficial,  and  receive  from 
the  creature  nothing  that  is  beneficial  in  return,  is  shown 
by  this  most  excellent  thinker  to  be  the  very  nature  and 
character  of  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  Godhead. 

This  being  so,  it  follows  of  course,  that  so  far  as  God  is 
concerned,  and  so  far  as  all  his  arrangements  in  the  original 
constitution  and  character  of  man  are  concerned,  prayer  is 
not  only  feasible,  but  feasible  in  the  highest  degree.  If  the 
intercourse  is  broken  off,  it  cannot  be  by  any  action  upon 
the  part  of  God.  If  man  finds  it  difficult  or  impossible  to 
pray,  and  to  pray  without  ceasing,  it  must  be  owing  to  some 
change  that  has  taken  place  in  his  own  nature  and  inclina- 
tion. God  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever.  He 
is  just  as  conversable,  just  as  friendly,  and  just  as  ready  to 
give  out  everything  while  he  receives  nothing  in  recom- 
pense, as  he  ever  was.  It  is  apostasy  and  sin,  alone,  that 
have  stopped  the  intercourse  between  man  and  his  Maker ; 
and  apostasy  and  sin  are  man's  work  and  agency. 

1.  Taking  up,  then,  the  question.  How  is  a  man  to  pray 
without  ceasing  ?  it  is  obvious,  in  the  first  place,  that  he 
must  have  an  inclination  to  pray.  Constant  supplication 
implies  a  habit  of  the  mind  and  heart,  and  this  implies  a 
steady  disposition  to  hold  intercourse  with  God.  We  do  not 
suppose  it  to  be  possible  to  perform  any  act,  and  especially 
any  religious  act,  continually  and  unceasingly,  by  the  mere 
exercise  of  volitions  without  any  inclination.  A  man  does 
not  follow  even  an  earthly  calling,  day  after  day,  and  with- 
out interruption  through  his  whole  life,  unless  his  heart  is 
in  the  work.  How  long,  think  you,  would  the  merchant 
continue  to  prosecute  a  line  of  business  which  he  utterly 
disliked,  and  to  which  he  must  force  himself  by  a  voilent 
resolution  every  time  that  he  engaged  in  it?     Nothing  is 


360  UNCEASING  PRAYER. 

done  in  this  world  for  any  great  length  of  time,  that  is  not 
done  spontaneously,  easily,  and  from  a  settled  inclination. 

The  distinction  between  a  man's  volitions  and  his  in- 
clination is  very  great  and  important,  and  many  errors 
both  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  religion  arise  from  over- 
looking it.  They  differ  from  each  other,  as  the  stream 
differs  from  the  fountain  ;  as  the  rays  of  the  sun  differ 
from  the  solid  orb  itself ;  as  the  branches  differ  from  the 
root  of  the  tree.  A  man's  volitions,  or  resolutions,  spring 
out  of  his  disposition,  or  inclination,  and  in  the  long  run 
do  not  go  counter  to  it.  The  stream  cannot  be  sweet,  if 
the  fountain  be  bitter  ;  and  a  man's  resolutions  cannot  be 
holy,  if  his  heart  or  inclination  is  sinful.  The  stream  can- 
not change  the  character  of  the  source  from  which  it  flows, 
and  neither  can  a  man's  volitions  alter  the  natural  disposi- 
tion from  which  they  all  issue,  and  of  which  they  are  the 
executive  and  index. 

Our  Lord  directs  attention  to  the  difference  between  an 
inclination  and  a  volition,  when  he  says :  "  Out  of  the 
heart  proceed  evil  thoughts,  murders,  adulteries,  thefts, 
and  such  like  ;  a  good  man  out  of  the  good  treasure  of  his 
heart  bringeth  forth  that  which  is  good,  and  an  evil  man 
out  of  the  evil  treasure  of  his  heart  bringeth  forth  that 
which  is  evil."  Here  he  represents  the  particular  act  of 
murder  or  theft,  which  is  performed  by  a  particular  res- 
olution or  decision  of  the  man's  will,  as  issuing  out  of  a 
deep  central  disposition  of  his  will  lying  back  of  it.  If 
there  be  no  murderous  inclination,  then  no  single  act  of 
murder  can  be  committed.  So  long  as  there  is  nothing 
but  a  "  good  treasure  of  the  heart,"  full  of  love  to  God  and 
man,  no  single  wrong  act  can  be  done  ;  and  so  long  as 
there  is  nothing  but  an  "  evil  treasure  of  the  heart,"  full  of 
selfishness,  and  enmity  towards  God  and  man,  no  single 
right  act  can  be  performed.    "A  good  tree,"  says  our  Lord, 


UNCEASIJ^G   PRAYEE.  361 

"  cannot  bring  forth  evil  f riiit ;  neither  can  a  corrupt  tree 
bring  forth  good  fruit."  The  inclination  determines  all 
the  particular  volitions  and  choices ;  and  hence  Christ 
teaches  his  disciples,  and  all  mankind,  that  the  change 
from  sin  to  holiness  must  begin  at  the  centre  and  source 
of  all  individual  transgressions — must  begin,  not  by  mak- 
ing a  resolution,  but  by  receiving  a  new  inclination  from 
God  the  Spirit.  "  Either  make  the  tree  good,  and  his  fruit 
good  ;  or  else  make  the  tree  corrupt,  and  his  fruit  corrupt." 
As  if  he  had  said :  "  It  is  vain  and  futile  to  attempt  to 
produce  a  moral  change,  by  altering  the  volitions  of  the 
will ;  the  inclination  of  the  will,  out  which  these  all  spring 
and  by  which  they  are  all  determined,  must  be  entirely 
converted  and  reversed." 

And  among  the  many  reasons  that  might  be  assigned 
for  this,  is  the  fact  that  there  can  be  no  steady  and  unceas- 
ing action  in  religion,  unless  there  be  an  inclination.  And 
here  we  are  brought  back  again  to  our  subject,  and  see 
the  bearings  upon  it  of  this  brief  discussion  of  the  dif- 
ference between  an  inclination  and  a  volition.  We  are 
asking  how  a  man  can  pray  without  ceasing.  We  desire 
to  know,  in  what  method  he  can  keep  up  a  continual  in- 
tercourse with  God.  It  is  plain  that  if  there  is  no  founda- 
tion for  it  in  the  tendency  of  his  mind,  and  the  disposition 
of  his  heart,  such  an  incessant  prayerf ulness  as  we  have 
been  speaking  of — a  praying  that  is  as  uniform  and  un- 
broken as  breathing  itself — cannot  be  maintained.  Sup- 
pose an  entire  destitution  of  the  inclination  to  draw  near 
to  God,  and  then  ask  yourself  the  question  :  "  Can  I  pray 
without  ceasing,  by  lashing  myself  up  to  the  unwelcome 
service ;  by  sternly  forcing  my  will  up  to  the  disagreeable 
work,  by  dint  of  resolutions  and  volitions  ?  "  Even  sup- 
posing that  the  prayer,  so  far  as  its  quality  is  concerned, 
could  be  made  acceptable  upon  this  method  ;  even  suppos- 
16 


362  UNCEASING   PRAYER. 

ing  that  God  would  listen  to  a  prayer  in  which  there  was 
no  spontaneous  inclining  of  the  heart  and  affections ;  could 
the  prayer  become  an  unceasing  one  by  this  method  ? 
"Would  not  the  man  grow  inexpressibly  weary,  and  soon 
end  the  useless  effort  ? 

We  lay  it  down,  therefore,  with  all  confidence,  that 
nothing  but  a  praying  disposition  of  the  heart  can  enable 
any  one  to  obey  the  apostle's  injunction  to  pray  without 
ceasing.  And  if  this  do  exist,  supplication  will  be  con- 
stant and  uniform.  If  it  be  true  that  an  evil  tree  cannot 
bring  forth  good  fruit,  it  is  equally  true  that  a  good  tree 
cannot  hut  bring  forth  good  fruit.  Can  you  prevent  a 
living,  thriving  tree  from  putting  forth  its  buds  and  blos- 
soms in  the  spring  ?  You  may  employ  all  the  mechanical 
appliances  within  the  reach  of  human  power,  and  in  spite 
of  them  all  the  sap  will  rise  in  the  tubes,  and  run  out  to 
the  rim  of  every  leaf,  and  the  bud  will  swell,  and  the  blos- 
som will  put  forth,  and  the  fruit  will  mature,  because  it  is 
the  nature  of  a  good  tree  so  to  do.  And  this  process 
will  be  repeated  year  after  year ;  the  tree  will  bud,  blossom, 
and  fructuate  "  without  ceasing ;  "  because  there  is  a  foun- 
dation laid  for  all  this  in  the  root  and  heart  of  the  tree. 
In  like  manner,  if  the  human  soul  craves  intercourse  with 
God ;  if  it  is  inclined  and  drawn  towards  him  as  its  best 
friend,  its  support  at  all  times,  and  its  eternal  portion ;  no 
power  in  heaven  or  eartli  can  prevent  it  from  approaching 
nigh  to  him.  Nothing  can  separate  between  a  praying 
heart,  and  tlie  Hearer  of  prayer.  Neither  death,  nor  life, 
nor  principalities,  nor  powei'S ;  neither  lieight,  nor  depth, 
nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come ;  are  able  to  pre- 
clude and  shut  off  the  intercourse  between  such  a  soul  and 
its  Maker.  This  has  been  the  strength  and  joy  of  God's 
people  in  all  time.  They  have  been  shut  up  in  dungeons, 
like  Paul  and  Silas  at  Philippi ;  but  they  have  found  God 


UNCEASING   PKAYEE.  363 

nearer  than  ever  to  them.  They  have  been  plunged  into 
earthly  trial  and  sorrow ;  but  this  only  caused  them  to  take 
yet  greater  delight  in  prayer.  They  have  drawn  near  to 
death,  and  have  gone  down  to  the  grave ;  but  the  ear  of 
their  Maker  and  Hedeemer  was  open  and  sensitive  to  their 
cry.  And  therefore  the  people  of  God  pray  on,  pray  ever, 
and  pray  without  ceasing. 

2.  But  this  inclination  to  prayer  may  be  strengthened 
by  cultivation,  and  the  use  of  means ;  and  it  is  to  this 
second  part  of  the  answer  to  the  question  that  we  direct 
attention. 

It  is  of  great  importance  to  understand  the  appointed 
connection  between  an  implanted  principle  in  the  heart, 
and  the  use  of  means,  and  to  act  accordingly.  Because 
religion  is  the  product  of  the  Holy  Spirit  within  our  souls, 
and  consists  in  a  new  inclination  or  disposition,  it  does  not 
follow  that  we  may  neglect  those  instrumentalities  that 
are  adapted  to  strengthen  and  develop  it.  It  is  indeed 
true  that  no  human  power  can  originate  the  principle  of 
spiritual  life  in  the  natural  man,  but  after  it  has  been  orig- 
inated by  the  Spirit  of  God,  it  can  be  cherished  and 
nourished  by  human  faculties  aided  by  divine  grace.  The 
flower  that  hangs  in  the  sunlight  in  your  window  contains 
a  mysterious  principle  of  vegetable  life  which  you  could  no 
more  originate,  or  call  into  being,  than  you  could  create  the 
planet  Saturn.  But  having  been  originated  by  the  Maker 
of  all  things,  you  can  then  supply  it  with  the  earth  and  mois- 
ture which  its  roots  require,  with  the  light  and  heat  which 
its  leaves  drink  in,  and  can  protect  it  from  the  frost  and 
the  insect,  and  make  it  a  thing  of  beauty  and  of  joy  in 
your  dwelling.  Should  this  ministry  of  yours  be  with- 
drawn ;  should  you  cease  to  apply  to  the  mysterious  germ 
and  principle  of  vegetable  life  which  dwells  in  the  rose  or 
camellia  the  appropriate  nutriment,  it  would  wane  away 


364  UNCEASING   PRAYER. 

and  finally  die  out.  It  would  indeed  continue  for  a  little 
while  to  show  its  wonderful  vitality,  by  endeavoring  to 
endure  the  drought,  or  the  sterility,  or  the  darkness,  which 
your  neglect  had  thrust  upon  it.  But  there  would  be  a 
limit  to  its  power  of  endurance,  and  that  beautiful  life 
which  neither  you  nor  the  highest  angel  could  summon 
into  being  would  eventually  be  quenched  in  death,  by  your 
carelessness. 

Precisely  so  is  it  with  the  life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man. 
The  new  heart,  the  obedient  disposition,  the  heavenly  affec- 
tion, the  praying  inclination — all  that  is  included  in  that 
principle  of  spiritual  vitality  which  is  originated  in  there- 
generation — will  wane  away,  without  the  use  of  the  ap- 
pointed means  of  growth  in  grace.  And  if  we  should 
suppose  a  final  and  total  cessation  of  Christian  culture  in  a 
given  instance  ;  if  we  could  suppose  as  an  actual  fact  that 
a  renewed  person  forever  ceases  to  pray,  forever  ceases 
to  meditate  upon  the  truth  of  God,  forever  ceases  to  dis- 
charge any  of  the  duties  of  a  Christian  profession  ;  then  we 
might  suppose  a  final  and  total  cessation  of  the  Christian 
life  within  him. 

All  this  applies  with  force  to  our  subject.  The  founda- 
tion for  intercourse  with  God,  which  has  been  laid  in  re- 
generation, must  be  built  upon.  The  disposition  to  draw 
nigh  to  God,  which  has  been  wrought  in  the  believer's 
heart,  must  be  strengthened  by  cultivation  and  the  use  of 
means.     We  briefly  notice  two  of  them. 

In  the  first  place,  the  Christian  deepens  and  strengthens 
his  inclination  to  pray,  by  7'egularity  in  the  jpi'actice  of 
prayer.  The  Psalmist  says  :  "  As  for  me  I  will  call  upon 
God  ;  evening,  and  morning,  and  at  noon,  will  I  pray,  and 
cry  aloud."  When  Darius  the  king  had  made  it  a  capital 
offence  to  offer  any  petition  to  any  god  or  man  save  him- 
self, Daniel  "  went  into  his  house,  and  his  windows  being 


UNCEASING  PRAYEK.  365 

open  in  his  chamber  toward  Jerusalem,  he  kneeled  upon 
his  knees  three  times  a  day,  and  prayed,  and  gave  thanks 
before  his  God,  as  he  did  afore  time."  These  holy  men 
observed  stated  times  and  seasons  of  prayer.  Man  is  a 
creature  of  habit  and  routine,  and  therefore  whatever  he 
leaves  to  the  chances  of  time,  place,  and  opportunity,  is 
very  certain  to  be  either  ill- performed  or  neglected  alto- 
gether. He  who  has  no  particular  time  for  winding  up 
his  watch  will  find  it  very  often  run  down.  The  man  of 
business  who  should  select  no  particular  hours  for  his 
transactions,  but  should  attempt  to  conduct  them  at  any 
time  in  the  day  or  the  night,  would  discover  that  the 
world  does  not  agree  with  him.  It  is  here,  that  we  per- 
ceive the  fallacy  of  those  who  would  abolish  the  Sabbath 
as  a  day  of  special  religious  worship,  upon  the  specious 
plea  that  every  day  ought  to  be  a  Sabbath,  because  the 
whole  of  human  life  should  be  consecrated  to  God.  What 
would  be  thought  of  a  banking  institution  that  should 
adopt  this  theory  ;  that  should  announce  to  the  public,  that 
inasmuch  as  it  was  their  desire  to  accumulate  wealth  un- 
ceasingly, at  one  time  as  much  as  at  another,  therefore 
they  should  set  no  particular  time  for  banking,  but  leave 
the  transaction  of  business  to  their  own  convenience,  and 
that  of  their  customers  ?  In  the  secular  world,  he  will  ac- 
complish the  most  who  does  not  allow  his  affairs  to  drag 
their  slow  length  along  through  all  the  hours  of  the  day, 
subject  to  accident  and  caprice,  but  concentrates  them  in 
definite  portions  of  time.  And  in  the  religious  world,  he 
will  make  swiftest  progress  in  the  divine  life  who  observes 
times  and  seasons ;  upon  the  principle  of  the  wise  man, 
that  there  is  a  time  for  everything — a  time  to  weep,  and 
a  time  to  laugh  ;  a  time  for  religious  duties,  and  a  time 
for  secularities.  That  man,  therefore,  will  be  most  likely 
to  make  every  day  a  holy  day,  who  makes  every  seventh 


366  UNCEASING   PRAYER. 

day  a  Sabbath  day,  as  he  is  commanded  to  do.  And  that 
Christian  will  be  most  likely  to  pray  without  ceasing,  and 
to  breathe  through  his  whole  daily  walk  and  conversation 
the  blessed  and  elevated  spirit  of  heaven,  who  at  certain 
particular  times,  like  David  and  Daniel,  enters  his  closet 
and  shuts  the  door,  and  prays  to  his  Father  who  seeth  in 
secret. 

Intimately  connected  with  this,  in  the  second  place,  is 
the  practice  of  ejaculatory  prayer.  This  also  tends  to 
deepen  and  strengthen  the  believer's  inclination  to  draw 
nigh  to  God.  Prayer  does  not  depend  so  much  upon  its 
length,  as  its  intensity  and  importunity  ;  and  hence  a  few 
moments  of  real  absorbing  address  to  God,  in  the  midst  of 
worldly  avocations,  and  particularly  in  the  midst  of  sharp 
temptations,  will  accomplish  wonders  in  the  way  of  arm- 
ing the  Christian  with  spiritual  power.  Sometimes  in  a 
single  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  eye  of  the 
believer  catches  the  eye  of  his  Saviour,  and  glances  are 
exchanged,  and  the  Divine  grace  flows  down  in  a  rill  into 
his  heart.  It  is  this  direct  vision  of  God,  and  this  direct 
instantaneous  appeal  to  him,  which  renders  the  brief 
broken  ejaculations  of  the  martyr  so  supporting,  and  so 
triumphant  over  flesh  and  blood,  over  malice  and  torture. 
There  is  a  power  in  prayer  that  is  beyond  any  other  power. 
Heading  and  meditation  are  invaluable  in  their  own  time 
and  place,  but  they  cannot  be  a  substitute  for  supplication. 
The  martyr  might  reflect  never  so  profoundly,  and  long, 
upon  the  omnipotence  and  wisdom  of  God,  and  still  be 
unable  to  endure  the  flame  and  the  rack.  But  the  single 
prayer :  "  Lord  Jesus  receive  my  spirit,"  lifts  him  high 
above  the  region  of  agony,  and  irradiates  his  countenance 
with  the  light  of  angelic  faces. 

The  church  of  the  present  day,  and  particularly  those 
churches  in  whose  membership  the  reserved  English  nature 


UNCEASING  PRAYER.  367 

prevails,  are  shorn  of  much  power  by  an  undue  suppres- 
sion of  their  religious  feeling.  "  My  li^s  shall  utter  praise ; 
my  lips  shall  greatly  rejoice  when  I  sing  unto  thee ;  O 
Lord  open  thou  my  Ivps,  and  my  mouth  shall  show  forth 
thy  praise."  Such  is  the  determination,  and  such  the  de- 
sire of  the  Psalmist.  How  frequently  does  he  call  upon 
his  tongue,  which  he  denominates  the  "  glory "  of  his 
frame,  to  awake  and  give  utterance  to  prayer  and  praise. 
"Awake  up,  my  glory ;  awake  psaltery  and  harp."  In 
this,  the  Psalmist  has  been  followed  by  the  great  and 
devout  men  who  have  been  called,  in  the  providence  of 
God,  to  "  stand  in  the  gap,  and  fill  up  the  hedge,"  in  times 
of  great  moment  to  the  church.  Martin  Luther  was  noted 
for  the  urgency  and  frequency  of  his  prayers,  and  particu- 
larly of  his  ejaculatory  petitions.  So  easy  and  natural, 
nay,  so  irrepressible  was  it  for  him  to  cry  out  to  God,  that 
even  in  company  with  friends,  and  in  the  midst  of  social 
intercourse,  he  would  break  forth  into  ejaculations.  This 
was  often  the  case  in  times  of  trouble  to  the  cause  of  the 
Reformation.  God  was  then  constantly  present  to  his 
anxious  and  strongly  exercised  soul,  and  he  pleaded  with 
him  as  a  man  pleads  with  his  friend. 

And  this  power  is  within  the  reach  of  every  believer. 
In  the  house  and  by  the  way,  in  the  crowd  or  in  soli- 
tude, the  Christian  may  whisper  in  the  ear  of  the  Almighty. 
How  marvellous  it  is  that  at  any  instant,  and  though  sur- 
rounded by  hundreds  of  his  fellow-creatures,  a  child  of 
God  may  carry  on  the  most  private  and  secret  transaction 
with  his  Father  who  seeth  in  secret.  Standing  in  the 
market-place,  and  hearing  the  busy  hum  of  men  all  around 
him,  the  Christian  can  nevertheless  hold  communication 
with  that  Being  who  is  sovereign  over  all,  and  take  hold  of 
that  hand  which  moves  the  world.  What  a  privilege  is 
this,  did  we  prize  it  and  use  it  as  we  ought.     We  are  not 


368  UNCEASING  PRAYER. 

compelled  to  go  to  some  central  point,  some  Jerusalem 
or  Mecca,  to  hold  intercourse  with  heaven.  "  The  hour 
Cometh,  and  now  is,"  says  our  Lord,  "  when  ye  shall 
neither  in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem,  worship 
the  Father.  The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is  when  the  true 
worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in 
truth.  God  is  a  Spirit."  In  any  section  of  space,  and  at 
any  point  of  time,  the  ejaculation  of  the  soul  may  reach  the 
Eternal  Mind,  and  be  rewarded  by  the  Hearer  of  prayer.' 
This  discussion  strongly  urges  upon  the  Christian,  the 
sedulous  cultivation  of  the  spirit  of  prayer.  If  he  be  in- 
deed a  Christian,  a  renewed  man,  he  has  already  received 
this  spirit.  It  is  not  to  be  originated ;  but  it  is  to  be  nur- 
tured and  developed.  Culture  is  the  great  work  before 
are  generate  person.  That  holy  thing  which  has  been 
wrought  within  his  heart  by  the  renewing  grace  of  God 
is  now  made  over  to  him,  to  take  care  of  and  cherish  by 
God's  assisting  grace.  Cultivate  therefore  the  spirit  of 
prayer  and  supplication,  by  uniformity  and  regularity  in 
private  devotions,  and  by  frequent  ejaculations  to  God. 
Do  not  be  afraid  of  system  and  particularity,  in  this  mat- 
ter of  learning  to  pray.     Thei-e  is  little  danger  of  undue 

'  "Ejaculations,"  says  Thomas  Fuller,  "  take  not  up  any  room  in  the 
soul.  They  give  liberty  of  callings,  so  that  at  the  same  instant  one 
may  follow  his  proper  vocation.  The  husbandman  may  dart  forth  an 
ejaculation,  and  not  make  a  balk  the  more  ;  the  seaman  never  the  less 
steer  his  ship  right  in  the  darkest  night.  Yea,  the  soldier  at  the  same 
time  may  shoot  out  his  prayer  to  God,  and  aim  his  pistol  at  his  enemy, 
the  one  better  hitting  the  mark  for  the  other.  The  field  vrherein  bees 
feed  is  no  whit  the  barer  for  their  biting  ;  when  they  have  taken  their 
full  repast  on  flowers  or  grass,  the  ox  may  feed,  the  sheep  fat  on  their 
reversions.  The  reason  is,  because  those  little  chemists  distil  only  the 
refined  part  of  the  flower,  leaving  only  the  grosser  substance  thereof. 
So  ejaculations  bind  not  men  to  any  bodily  observance,  only  busy  the 
spiritual  half,  which  maketh  them  consistent  with  the  prosecution  of 
any  other  employment." 


UNCEASING   PRAYER.  369 

formality,  in  our  free  Protestant  methods.  The  whole 
Protestant  world  might  learn  something  from  the  Papist, 
and  even  from  the  Mohammedan,  in  respect  to  the  faith- 
ful observance  of  set  times  and  seasons  of  prayer.  More 
of  conscientious  attention  to  the  offices  of  private  and  pub- 
lic devotion,  in  our  churches,  would  beyond  all  question 
deepen  and  strengthen  their  piety.  And  were  the  closet 
more  regularly  entered,  the  habit  of  ejaculatory  prayer 
more  common,  the  private  worship  in  the  family  and  the 
public  worship  in  the  sanctuary  more  uniformly  rendered, 
the  spirit  of  supplication,  and  the  inclination  to  pray, 
would  be  developed  in  a  manner  that  would  surprise  and 
bless  the  impenitent  world. 

After  the  death  of  that  remarkable  English  writer.  Sir 
Thomas  Browne,  the  following  resolutions  were  found  in 
one  of  his  common-place  books ;  and  we  here  cite  them,  as  a 
specimen  of  the  piety  of  that  seventeenth  century  which 
has  left  the  world  such  a  rich  legacy  of  profound  and  devout 
literature,  and  as  an  example  for  a  Christian  man  in  all 
time.  This  thoughtful  and  God-fearing  person  resolves : 
"To  be  sure  that  no  day  pass,  without  -calling  upon  God 
in  a  solemn  prayer,  seven  times  within  the  compass  thereof ; 
that  is,  in  the  morning,  and  at  night,  and  five  times  be- 
tween ;  taken  up  long  ago  from  the  example  of  David  and 
Daniel,  and  a  compunction  and  shame  that  I  had  omitted 
it  so  long,  when  I  heedfully  read  of  the  custom  of  the 
Mahometans  to  pray  five  times  in  the  day.  To  pray  and 
magnify  God  in  the  night,  and  my  dark  bed,  when  I  could 
not  sleep :  to  have  short  ejaculations  whenever  I  awaked. 
To  pray  in  all  places  where  privacy  inviteth  ;  in  anj'^  house, 
highway  or  street ;  and  to  know  no  street  or  passage  in 
this  city  which  may  not  witness  that  I  have  not  forgot 
God  and  ray  Saviour  in  it ;  and  that  no  parish  or  town 
where  1  have  been  may  not  say  the  like.  To  pray  daily 
16* 


370  UNCEASIKG   PRAYER. 

and  particularly  for  sick  patients,  and  in  general  for  others, 
wheresoever,  howsoever,  and  under  whose  care  soever ; 
and  at  the  entrance  into  the  house  of  the  sick,  to  say,  The 
peace  and  mercy  of  God  be  in  this  place.  After  a  ser- 
mon, to  make  a  thanksgiving,  and  desire  a  blessing,  and 
to  pray  for  the  minister.  In  tempestuous  weather,  light- 
ning, and  thunder,  either  night  or  day,  to  pray  for  God's 
merciful  protection  upon  all  men,  and  his  mercy  upon 
their  souls,  bodies,  and  goods.  Upon  sight  of  beautiful 
persons,  to  bless  God  in  his  creatures,  to  pray  for  the 
beauty  of  their  souls,  and  to  enrich  them  with  inward 
graces,  to  be  answerable  unto  the  outward.  Upon  sight 
of  deformed  persons,  to  send  them  inward  graces,  and  en- 
rich their  souls,  and  give  them  the  beauty  of  the  resurrec- 
tion." 

Such  unceasing  supplication  as  this  must  result  in  great 
spirituality.  The  growth  of  a  Christian  is  in  nothing 
more  apparent,  than  in  the  tone  of  his  prayers.  An  in- 
creasing humility,  earnestness,  comprehensiveness,  concise- 
ness, and  heavenly  glow  in  the  devotions  of  a  believer,  are 
a  sure  sign  that  he  is  drawing  nearer  to  glory,  honor,  and 
immortality — that  he  is  rapidly  preparing  for  a  world 
where  every  spiritual  want  will  be  fully  supplied,  and 
where  consequently  prayer  will  pass  into  praise.  There- 
fore, "  pray  without  ceasing,"  that  you  may  hereafter  wor- 
ship and  adore  without  ceasing. 


SERMON  XXIV. 

THE  FOLLY  OF  AMBITION. 


Jeremiah  xlv.  5. — "Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thyself?   seek 
them  not." 


Man  is  a  creature  of  aspirations.  His  constant  question 
is  :  Who  will  show  me  any  good  ?  It  matters  not  whether 
we  try  him  in  the  highest  or  the  lowest  ranges  of  society, 
we  find  him  always  and  everywhere  reaching  out  after 
something.  It  is  an  error  to  suppose  that  ambition  is  con- 
fined to  the  Alexanders  and  Napoleons  of  the  world.  The 
most  retired  hamlet  has  its  village  aspirants,  whose  minds 
and  hearts  dilate  with  the  same  emotions  in  kind  that 
urged  on  "  Macedonia's  madman  "  in  his  career  of  conquest 
from  the  Euxine  to  the  Indus,  and  that  stimulated  the 
French  emperor  through  his  hundreds  of  battles  from  Lodi 
to  Waterloo.  To  the  human  eye,  there  is,  indeed,  a  great 
difference  between  the  aspirations  of  a  Julius  Caesar  and 
the  aspirations  of  a  county  politician  ;  but  to  the  Divine 
eye  there  is  no  difference  at  all.  Mathematicians  tell  us 
that  all  finite  numbers  are  reduced  to  the  same  level,  when 
compared  with  infinity  ;  that  ten  thousands  or  ten  millions 
are  just  as  far  from  infinitude  as  ten  hundred,  or  as  ten, 
or  as  one.  So  is  it  in  morals.  The  ambition  and  aspi- 
rations of  an  earthly  monarch,  or  an  earthly  conqueror, 
in  the  sight  of  Him  who  is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting, 


372  THE   FOLLY   OF   AMBITION. 

are  just  as  insignificant  as  the  struggles  of  a  village  poli- 
tician to  acquire  a  village  office,  or  the  toils  of  a  millionaire 
to  add  a  few  more  thousands  to  his  treasures. 

"  Our  lives  through  various  scenes  are  drawn, 
And  vexed  with  trifling  cares  ; 
While  Thine  eternal  thought  moves  on 
Thine  undisturbed  affairs." 

If  we  could  but  look  at  human  life  from  the  position 
of  eternity,  and  measure  it  by  the  scale  of  infinity,  we 
should  perceive  that  the  common  distinction  which  we 
make  between  the  great  things  and  the  small  things  of 
earth  is  not  a  real  one  ;  and  that  all  human  ambition,  be  it 
that  of  a  king  or  a  peasant,  is  the  same  poor  and  futile  at- 
tempt of  a  creature  to  pass  a  line  which  the  decree  of  the 
infinite  and  eternal  God  has  made  it  impossible  for  him 
to  pass.  "Men  of  low  degree  are  vanity,  and  men  of 
high  degree  are  a  lie  ;  to  be  laid  in  the  balance,  they  are 
altogether  vanity." 

The  prophet  Jeremiah,  in  the  text,  recognizes  thisprone- 
ness  of  man  to  inordinate  and  ambitious  aspirations,  and 
warns  against  it.  "  Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thyself? 
seek  them  not."  The  putting  of  such  a  question  implies 
that  this  is  the  common  weakness  and  sin  of  man.  As  if 
he  had  said  :  "  Are  you  one  of  the  common  mass  of  man- 
kind, and  is  your  eye  dazzled  with  visions  of  glory,  or 
pleasure  ?  Are  you  reaching  out  after  an  unlimited  meas- 
ure of  earthly  good  ?  Are  you  seeking  the  praise  of  men, 
and  not  the  praise  of  God  ?  worldly  enjoyment,  and  not 
lieavenly  blessedness?  Cease  this  struggle  and  attempt 
to  find  solid  good  in  the  creature."  Let  us,  therefore,  con- 
sider some  of  the  reasons  for  not  aspiring  after  the  "  great 
things  "  of  earth  and  time  ;  some  of  the  dissuasives  from 
worldly  ambition. 


THE   FOLLY   OF   AMBITION":  373 

I.  The  first  reason  for  not  seeking  the  great  things  of 
earth  and  time  is,  that  they  will  not  he  attained.  We  do 
not  deny  that  the  energy  and  perseverance  of  an  ambitious 
man  will  accomplish  great  results,  but  we  affirm  confidently 
that  he  will  never  attain  what  he  desires.  For  his  desires 
are  continually  running  ahead  of  his  attainments,  so  tliat 
the  more  he  gets  the  more  he  wants.  He  never  acquires 
the  "  great  thing  "  which  lie  is  seeking,  in  such  a  way  as  to 
sit  down  quietly  and  enjoy  contentment  of  heart.  Alexan- 
der, we  are  told,  having  conquered  all  the  then  known 
world,  wept  in  disappointment  because  there  were  no  more 
worlds  for  him  to  overrun  and  subdue.  The  operation  of 
this  principle  is  seen  very  clearly  in  the  narrower  sphere  of 
private  life.  A  young  man  begins  life  with  the  aspiration 
after  wealth.  This  is  the  "  great  thing  "  which  he  seeks. 
This  is  the  height  of  his  ambition.  We  will  suppose  that 
he  limits  the  sum  which  he  seeks  to  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  After  some  years  of  toil  and  economy,  he  acquires 
it.  But  this  sum  is  no  longer  a  "  great  thing  "  for  him. 
]N'ow  that  it  is  actually  in  his  hands,  it  looks  small,  very 
small.  The  limit  is  enlarged,  and  he  aspires  to  be  a 
millionaire.  The  "  great  thing "  which  he  now  seeks  is 
one  million  of  treasure.  This  too  is  secured,  but  with  the 
same  result.  The  "  great  thing  "  shrivels  up  again  now 
that  it  is  actually  in  his  possession,  and  he  once  more  en- 
larges his  limit,  only  to  meet  the  same  disappointment, 
unless  death  interrupts  him  with  the  stern  utterance: 
"  Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee, 
and  then  whose  shall  those  things  be  which  thou  hast 
provided  ? " 

In  this  way,  it  is  apparent  that  he  who  is  seeking  great 
things  here  upon  earth  will  never  obtain  them.  He  is 
chasing  his  horizon.  He  is  trying  to  jump  off  his  own 
shadow.     As  fast  as  he  advances,  the  horizon  recedes  f roni 


374  THE   FOLLY   OF  AMBITION. 

him ;  the  further  he  leaps,  the  further  his  shadow  falls. 
His  estimate  of  what  a  "great  thing"  is  continually 
changes,  so  that  though  relatively  to  other  men  he  has 
accumulated  wealth,  or  obtained  earthly  power  and  fame, 
yet  absolutely,  he  is  no  nearer  the  desire  of  his  heart — no 
nearer  to  a  satisfying  good — than  he  was  at  the  beginning 
of  his  career,  Nay,  it  is  the  testimony  of  many  a  man, 
that  the  first  few  gains  that  were  made  at  the  beginning  of 
life  came  nearer  to  filling  the  desires  of  the  mind,  and 
were  accompanied  with  more  of  actual  contentment,  than 
the  thousands  and  millions  that  succeeded  them. 

"  As  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he."  The  value 
of  all  earthly  good  depends  entirely  upon  the  views  and 
feelings  which  we  entertain  concerning  it.  There  is  no 
fixed  and  unchangeable  worth  in  temporal  things,  as  there 
is  in  eternal.  Hence  that  which  appeared  great  and 
desirable  to  us  yesterday,  appears  small  and  midesirable 
to-day.  Like  the  chameleon,  it  changes  its  color  according 
as  we  Vend  over  it,  and  cast  light  or  shade  upon  it.  He 
who  loves  God  and  truth,  loves  an  object  that  is  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever.  But  he  who  loves  wealth, 
or  pleasure,  or  fame,  loves  a  continually  shifting  and  vary- 
ing object.  God  is  always  great,  and  alwa3's  good  ;  and 
the  heart  that  has  made  Him  its  supreme  portion  never 
finds  Him  falling  short  of  its  expectations.  But  he  who 
fixes  his  affections  upon  the  things  that  are  seen,  and  tem- 
poral, is  subject  to  a  constant  series  of  disappointments. 
As  fast  as  one  thing  is  attained,  it  proves  to  be  different 
from  what  was  anticipated,  and  gives  way  to  another, 
which  in  its  turn  is  chased  after,  and  in  its  turn  is  flung 
away  in  disgust  when  reached. 

"We  find,  then,  that  a  really  great  thing  cannot  be  secured 
within  the  sphere  of  earth,  and  sense,  and  time,  because 
there  is  no  really  great  thing  within  this  sphere.     There 


THE  FOLLY   OF  AMBITION.  375 

are  many  things  that  seem  great  while  the  struggle  for 
them  is  going  on ;  but  there  is  not  a  single  thing  in  the 
wide  realm  of  creation  that  is  absolutely  great.  God  alone 
is  great.  Nothing  but  the  infinite  and  adorable  excellence 
of  God  is  large  enough  for  the  desires  of  an  immortal 
being  like  man.  Well,  therefore,  may  the  prophet  say  to 
every  ambitious  and  aspiring  man,  whether  his  aspiration 
reaches  out  after  wealth,  pleasure,  or  power :  "  Seekest 
thou  great  things  for  thyself  ?  seek  them  not." 

II.  A  second  reason  for  not  seeking  great  things  is,  that 
if  they  could  be  attained  they  would  ruin  the  soul.  It  is 
fearful  to  observe  the  rapidity  with  which  a  man's  char- 
acter deteriorates  as  he  secures  the  object  of  his  desire, 
when  the  object  is  a  merely  earthly  one,  and  the  desire  is 
a  purely  selfish  one.  Take,  for  illustration,  the  career  of 
that  military  genius  to  whom  we  have  already  alluded. 
Napoleon  Bonaparte  sought  "  great  things."  He  aimed  at 
a  universal  empire  in  Europe.  And  just  in  proportion  as 
he  approached  the  object  of  his  aspirations,  did  he  recede 
from  that  state  of  mind  and  heart  which  ought  to  char- 
acterize a  dependent  creature  of  God.  We  do  not  allude 
so  much  to  outward  vices  and  crimes — though  the  life  of 
the  great  captain  will  not  bear  inspection  in  this  particular 
— as  to  that  gradual  deadening  of  the  humane  emotions, 
and  that  Lucifer-like  self -exaltation,  which  transformed  the 
young  Corsican  of  comparatively  moderate  desires  and 
purposes,  into  the  most  grasping  and  imperious  soul  that 
ever  lived  upon  earth.  Meekness  and  humility  are  traits 
that  properly  belong  to  every  finite  and  dependent  crea- 
ture ;  and  He  who  came  upon  earth  to  exemplify  the  per- 
fection of  human  nature  said  to  all  the  world  :  "  Take  my 
yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly 
of  heart."  But  who  can  think  of  meekness  and  humble 
dependence  upon  God,  in  connection  with  the  character  of 


376  THE   FOLLY   OF  AMBITION. 

Napoleon  ?  On  the  contrary,  we  always  associate  him 
with  those  pagan  demi-gods,  those  heaven-storming  Titans, 
who  like  the  Lucifer  of  Scripture  are  the  very  impersona- 
tion of  pride  and  ambition.  But  such  a  spirit  as  this  is 
the  worst  species  of  human  character.  It  is  the  most 
intense  form  of  idolatry — that  of  egotism  and  self -worship. 
It  is  the  most  arrogant  and  defiant  form  of  pride.  It 
would  scale  the  heavens.     It  would  dethrone  the  Eternal. 

The  same  effect  of  mere  worldly  success  is  seen  also  in  the 
walks  of  every-day  life.  Cast  your  eye  over  the  circle  in 
which  you  move,  and  select  out  those  who  are  the  most 
greedy  of  earthly  good,  and  are  the  most  successful  in  ob- 
taining it,  and  are  they  not  the  most  selfish  persons  that 
you  know  ?  Docs  not  their  character  steadily  deteriorate 
as  the  years  roll  away  ?  They  do  not  become  any  the  less 
grasping  and  avaricious,  for  their  success ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  their  appetite  grows  by  what  it  feeds  upon.  The 
fact  which  we  have  alluded  to  obtains  a  remarkable  ex- 
emplification, in  their  case.  The  instant  the  "great 
thing  "  which  they  have  been  seeking  after  has  actually 
come  into  their  possession,  it  seems  a  small  one  ;  they  are 
not  satisfied  with  it,  and  enlarge  their  limits.  This  in- 
tensifies their  cravings  ;  and  this  stimulates  them  to  yet 
more  convulsive  efforts.  They  override  everything  that 
stands  in  their  way,  and  opposes  them  in  the  attainment 
of  their  projects,  and  thus  acquire  an  arrogant  and  exact- 
ing temper  that  renders  them  hateful  and  hated. 

It  is  here,  that  we  see  the  moral  benefit  of  failures  and 
disappointments.  Were  men  uniformly  successful  in  their 
search  after  "  great  things ; "  did  every  man  who  seeks 
wealth  obtain  wealth,  and  every  man  who  grasps  after 
power  obtain  power,  and  every  man  who  lusts  after  fame 
become  renowned ;  the  world  would  be  a  pandemonium, 
and   human    character  and   happiness   would  be  ruined. 


THE  FOLLY   OF   AMBITION.  377 

Swollen  by  constant  victory,  and  a  sense  of  superiority,  suc- 
cessful men  would  turn  their  hands  against  one  another, 
as  in  the  wars  of  the  giants  before  the  flood.  There  would 
be  no  self-restraint,  no  regard  for  the  welfare  of  others, 
no  moderate  and  just  estimate  of  this  world,  and  no  atten- 
tion to  the  future  life,  Nothing  but  the  failures  and  dis- 
appointments that  so  crowd  the  career  of  man  on  the  earth, 
prevents  the  world  from  becoming  a  theatre  of  contend- 
ing factions  that  would  ultimately  destroy  each  other.  This 
man  is  reduced  from  affluence  to  poverty,  and  he  is  made  sub- 
missive, and  moderate,  and  reasonable  in  his  temper.  That 
man  fails  to  reach  the  summit  of  his  ambition,  and  quietly 
settles  down  into  a  useful  and.happy  sphere  of  labor.  Thus 
the  providence  of  "  God  only  wise  "  educates  ambitious  and 
grasping  man  into  sobriety,  and  a  judicious  estimate  of 
both  the  great  things  and  the  small  things  of  this  transitory 
existence. 

Ill,  A  third  reason  for  not  seeking  "  great  things  "  lies 
in  the  fact,  that  "  great  things,"  so  far  as  they  are  attained 
at  all  in  this  world,  are  commonly  attained  indirectly. 
Saul  the  son  of  Kish  was  sent  out  by  his  father  to  find  the 
asses  that  had  strayed,  but  he  found  a  kingdom  instead. 
Disappointed  in  his  search  for  the  lost  animals,  he  betook 
himself  to  the  prophet  Samuel  for  information,  and  Samuel 
anointed  him  king  over  Israel,  He  did  not  obtain  what 
he  went  for,  but  something  greater  and  better.  This  illus- 
trates the  manner  in  which  "  great  things "  are  generally 
acquired  in  this  world.     They  come  indirectly. 

Look  into  literary  history,  and  see  how  this  is  exempli- 
fied. The  most  successful  creations  of  the  human  reason 
and  imagination  have  rarely  been  the  intentional,  and  fore- 
seen products  of  the  person.  The  great  authors  have  been 
surprised  at  their  success  ;  if,  indeed,  success  came  to  them 
during  their  life-time.     But  more  commonly  their  fame 


378  THE  FOLLY  OF  AMBITION. 

has  been  posthumous,  and  their  ears  never  heard  a  single 
note  of  the  paean  that  went  up  from  the  subsequent  genera- 
tions that  were  enchanted  with  their  genius.  Shakspeare 
and  Milton  never  read  a  single  criticism  upon  their  own 
works;  and  to-day  they  neither  know  anything  of,  nor  care 
for  the  fame  that  attends  them  upon  this  little  planet. 
Wordsworth  writes  to  a  friend  who  had  congratulated  him 
upon  the  estimation  in  which  his  poetry  was  held :  "  I  am 
standing  on  the  brink  of  the  vast  ocean  I  must  sail  so  soon ; 
I  must  speedily  lose  sight  of  the  shore ;  and  I  could  not, 
once,  have  conceived  how  little  I  am  now  troubled  by  the 
thought  of  how  long  or  short  a  time  they  who  remain  on 
that  shore  may  have  sight  of  me."  Speaking  generally, 
the  great  authors  left  something  so  written  to  after  times 
as  men  would  not  willingly  let  die,  not  because  they  aimed 
deliberately,  and  with  a  straining  effort,  at  such  a  result, 
but  because  in  the  prosecution  of  other  aims — in  following 
their  own  tastes  and  impulses,  or  their  desire  to  be  useful 
to  their  fellow-men — ^this  result  came  to  them  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God.  Said  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  modern 
poets — one  who  sprang  into  notoriety  during  his  life-time, 
without  any  preconceived  purpose,  or  any  laborious  effort 
to  this  end — "  I  woke  up  one  morning  and  found  myself 
famous." 

Look,  again,  into  the  circles  of  trade  and  commerce,  and 
observe  how  often  great  and  lasting  success  comes  inci- 
dentally, rather  than  as  the  consequence  of  preconceived 
purposes  and  plans.  The  person  aimed  simply  at  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duties  to  his  family,  to  the  state,  and  to  his 
Maker.  He  laid  out  no  plans  for  the  acquisition  of  a 
colossal  fortune,  but  endeavored  to  provide  for  the  present 
and  prospective  wants  of  those  dependent  upon  him,  with 
prudence  and  moderation.  He  obtained,  however,  far 
more  than  he  calculated  upon.     Wealth  came  in  upon  him 


THE  FOLLY   OF   AMBITION.  379 

with  rapidity,  and  that  which  he  did  not  greedily  seek,  and 
which  he  never  in  the  least  gloated  upon  with  a  miser's 
feeling,  was  the  actual  result  of  his  career  in  the  world. 

The  words  of  our  Lord  are  true  in  reference  to  secular, 
as  well  as  sacred  things :  "  He  that  findeth  his  life  shall 
lose  it ;  and  he  that  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it."  If  we 
directly  seek  "  great  things,"  we  shall  fail  of  their  attain- 
ment. There  are  a  few  exceptions  to  this  general  rule,  it 
is  true ;  but  a  careful  observation  of  the  common  course 
of  events  will  show,  that  reputation,  wealth,  and  secular 
blessings  generally,  fall  to  those  who  are  not  specially 
anxious  concerning  them — who  pursue  the  ends  of  life 
with  wisdom  and  moderation,  and  are  rewarded  by  Divine 
Providence  with  an  overplus  of  temporal  good  that  formed 
no  part  of  their  original  purposes  and  expectations.  The 
great  majority  of  those,  on  the  contrary,  who  set  up  fame, 
wealth,  or  pleasure,  as  their  idol,  and  made  everything 
subservient  to  its  attainment,  have  been  miserably  disap- 
pointed. They  were  destined  to  fail  inevitably.  For,  in 
case  they  obtained  the  glittering  object  they  aimed  at,  it 
grew  pale  and  dnll  in  their  possession,  like  that  radiant 
little  insect  which  the  child  chases  in  the  summer  evening, 
and  grasps  in  his  hands,  only  to  find  a  black  and  repulsive 
bug.  And  in  case  they  failed  altogether,  in  securing  the 
prize  which  they  sought,  their  anxious  and  spasmodic 
efforts  after  it  only  left  them  tired,  and  disgusted  with 
human  life. 

Seekest  thou,  then,  great  things  for  thyself?  seek  them 
not.  They  will  not  come  by  this  method.  Seek  first  of 
all  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness ;  and  then 
all  these  minor  things,  which  the  world  and  the  deluded 
human  heart  denominates  "  great  things,"  shall  be  added 
unto  you.  Be  faithful  to  your  duties  in  the  family,  in  the 
state,  and  in  the  church,  and  then  that  measure  of  secular 


380  THE  FOLLY   OF   AMBITION. 

blessings  which  will  accrue  to  you  of  itself,  will  exceed 
all  that  you  will  be  likely  to  attain  even  by  the  most  en- 
grossing and  violent  efforts  devoted  to  the  sole  purpose 
of  obtaining  them.  If  you  will  lose  your  life,  you  shall 
find  it ;  but  if  you  insist  upon  finding  your  life,  you  shall 
lose  it. 

TV.  A  fourth  reason  for  obeying  the  injunction  of  the 
text  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  great  sorrow  springs  from 
great  aspirations,  when  those  aspirations  are  unattained. 
There  is  only  one  species  of  aspiration  that  does  not  weary 
and  wear  the  soul,  and  that  is,  the  craving  and  cry  of  the 
soul  after  God.  "As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water 
brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  thee  O  God."  The 
desire  expressed  in  these  words  of  the  Psalmist  can  never 
satiate,  or  disgust  the  human  spirit,  for  the  reason  that  God 
is  the  real  and  true  portion,  the  substantial,  eternal  good 
of  the  creature.  But  all  other  aspirations  dispirit  and  dis- 
courage in  the  end.  "  He  that  increaseth  knowledge  in- 
creaseth  sorrow."  The  sadness  and  melancholy  of  the 
man  of  letters  is  well  known.  One  of  the  most  equable 
minds  in  literary  history,  singularly  calm  and  balanced  by 
nature,  and  remarkably  free  from  passionate  and  stormy 
impulses,  confessed  at  the  close  of  a  long  life  of  eighty 
years  that  he  had  never  experienced  a  moment  of  genuine 
repose.'  Humboldt,  who  had  surveyed  the  cosmos,  and 
who  had  devoted  a  long  existence  to  placid  contemplation 
of  the  processes  of  nature,  and  had  kept  aloof  from  the 
exciting  and  passionate  provinces  of  human  literature,  said 
in  his  eightieth  year :  "  I  live  without  hope,  because  so 
little  of  what  I  have  undertaken  yields  a  satisfactory  re- 
sult." This  is  the  penalty  which  ambitious  minds  pay  for 
seeking  "great  things."     There  is  an  infinite  aspiration, 

'  Goethe  :  Conversations  by  Eckermann,  p.  58. 


THE   FOLLY   OF   AMBITION.  381 

and  an  infinitesimal  performance.  The  hour  of  death,  and 
the  falling  shadows  of  an  everlasting  existence,  and  an 
everlasting  destiny,  bring  the  aspiration  and  the  perform- 
ance into  terrible  contrast.  Most  impressively  do  such 
facts  and  experiences  in  the  history  of  marked  men  re- 
iterate the  prophet's  injunction:  "  Seekest  thou  great 
things  for  thyself  ?  seek  them  not." 

Go  down,  once  more,  into  the  sphere  of  active  life,  and 
see  the  same  sorrow  from  the  same  course.  Look  at  that 
man  of  trade  and  commerce  who  has  spent  his  life  in 
gigantic,  and,  we  will  suppose,  successful  enterprises,  and 
who  now  drawls  near  the  grave.  Ask  him  how  the  aspira- 
tion compares  with  the  performance.  He  has  generally 
accomplished,  we  will  assume,  what  he  undertook.  The 
results  of  his  energy  and  capacity  are  known,  and  visible 
to  all  in  his  circle  and  way  of  life.  His  associates  have 
praised  him,  and  still  praise  him  ;  for  he  has  done  well  for 
himself,  and  for  all  connected  with  him.  But  he  writes 
vanity  upon  it  all.  When  he  thinks  of  all  the  heat  and 
fever  of  his  life,  all  his  anxious  calculation  and  toil  by  day 
and  night,  all  his  sacrifice  of  physical  comfort  and  of 
mental  and  moral  improvement,  and  then  thinks  of  the 
actual  results  of  it  all — the  few  millions  of  treasure,  the 
few  thousands  of  acres,  or  the  few  hundreds  of  houses — 
he  bewails  his  infatuation,  and  curses  his  folly.  He  per- 
ceives that  great  sorrow  springs  out  of  a  great  aspiration, 
when  that  aspiration  terminates  upon  things  seen  and 
temporal. 

Such,  then,  are  the  dissuasives  to  ambition.  These  are 
the  reasons  for  heeding  the  injunction  of  the  prophet,  not 
to  seek  the  great  things  of  earth.  They  will  not  be  at- 
tained, because  as  fast  as  they  come  into  possession  they 
lose  their  value.  If  they  could  be  attained,  they  would 
ruin  the  soul,  by  inordinate  pride  and  self -exaltation.     So 


382  THE   FOLLY   OF   AMBITION. 

far  as  they  are  partially  and  approximately  attained,  it  is 
by  indirection,  and  not  by  preconceived  aims  and  purposes. 
And,  lastly,  a  great  sorrow  always  springs  out  of  a  great 
aspiration  that  is  unfulfilled. 

1.  In  the  light  of  this  subject  and  its  discussion,  we  per- 
ceive, in  the  first  place,  the  smfulness  of  ambition.  Some 
speak  of  a  "  holy  ambition  ; "  but  there  is  no  such  thing, 
any  more  than  a  holy  pride,  or  a  sanctified  avarice.  Am- 
bition, as  the  etymology  of  the  word  denotes,  is  a  circuit- 
ous method  (ambio).  It  is  not  the  straightforward  search 
after  a  good  thing,  simply  because  it  is  good ;  but  it  is 
the  roundabout  endeavor  to  obtain  a  "  great  thing,"  for  the 
sake  of  the  personal  advantage  which  it  yields.  If  the 
student  toils  after  knowledge,  not  for  its  own  sake  but  be- 
cause it  brings  fame  and  worldly  gain  with  it,  he  is  an 
ambitious  student.  He  does  not  proceed  straight  to  the 
mark,  and  acquire  learning  because  it  is  good  in  itself,  but 
that  he  may  convert  it  into  a  mere  means  to  some  ulterior 
end.  If  a  man  seeks  religion,  not  because  it  is  intrinsically 
excellent,  but  that  his  standing  in  society  may  be  advanced, 
he  is  actuated  by  an  ambitious  motive.  He  does  not  move 
straight  and  direct  towards  the  good  thing,  and  choose  it 
for  its  own  pure  excellence.  It  is  impossible  that  such  a 
spirit  as  this  should  be  virtuous,  or  of  the  nature  of  virtue. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  sinful  in  the  utmost  degree,  because 
it  is  the  very  essence  of  selfishness  and  pride.  Such  a  per- 
son employs  all  the  good  things,  and  all  the  great  things, 
of  this  world  and  the  next,  as  mere  means  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  private  and  ambitious  ends.  It  was  by  this  sin, 
that  the  angels  fell.  They  were  not  content  with  loving 
God  because  he  is  lovely,  and  obeying  law  because  the  law 
is  holy,  just  and  good.  They  desired  to  obtain  some  private 
and  personal  advantage,  separate  from,  and  over  and  above 
the  joy,  peace,  and  blessedness  of  serving  God  for  his  own 


THE  FOLLY   OF   AMBITIOIST.  383 

sake.  And  the  fallen  archangel  plied  our  first  parents, 
with  the  same  motive.  He  promised  them  that  if  they 
would  eat  of  the  forbidden  tree,  they  should  "be  as  gods." 
He  wakened  in  them  the  feeling  of  ambition,  and  by 
ambition  they,  too,  fell. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  we  see  in  the  light  of  this  sub- 
ject, the  complete  and  perfect  blessedness  of  those  who  are 
free  from  all  ambitious  aims  and  selfish  purposes  ;  who 
can  say  :  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee  ?  and  there 
is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  besides  Thee.  Thou,  O  God, 
art  the  strength  of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  forever." 
We  cannot  find  a  perfect  happiness  upon  earth,  because  we 
cannot  find  a  soul  that  is  perfectly  unambitious  and  un- 
selfish. The  best  of  men  will  confess  that  the  lingering 
remains  of  this  Adamic  sin,  this  desire  to  be  as  gods,  this 
straining  after  superiority,  are  continually  stirring  within 
them,  and  interfering  with  their  spiritual  peace  and  joy. 
And  they  long  for  the  time  when  they  shall  be  satisfied 
with  the  Divine  likeness ;  when  they  shall  not  be  envious 
in  the  least  of  the  happiness  and  the  privileges  of  others ; 
nay,  when  they  shall  not  be  disturbed  in  the  least  to  see 
others  placed  above  them.  For  such  will  be  the  state  of 
feeling  in  the  heavenly  world.  The  spirit  of  a  just  man 
made  perfect,  who  is  satisfied  from  himself  because  he  is 
satisfied  in  God,  does  not  envy  the  exaltation  of  the  angel 
above  him  ;  the  angel  feels  no  pang  of  jealousy  on  seeing 
the  cherub  higher  than  himself ;  the  cherub  does  not  be- 
grudge the  seraph  his  glory  and  joy ;  and  none  of  all  these 
have  the  slightest  desire  to  drag  down  the  archangel  from 
his  lofty  place  in  the  celestial  hierarchy.  Each  and  all  of 
these  ranks  of  happy  intelligences  know  that  God  is  in- 
finitely greater  and  more  glorious  than  his  universe,  and 
in  liim  they  all  delight  according  to  the  measure  of  their 
powers  and  capacities. 


384  THE  FOLLY   OF  AMBITION". 

And  only  as  this  spirit  animates  the  hearts  of  Chris- 
tians here  below,  does  the  Church  resemble  the  heavenly 
state.  But,  alas  !  Ephraim  envies  Judah,  and  Judah  vexes 
Ephraim,  and  the  kingdom  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Re- 
deemer is  torn  with  intestine  struggles.  And  the  heart 
of  the  individual  believer  is  also  torn  with  an  intestine 
struggle.  How  difficult  it  is  to  obey  the  injunction  of  St. 
James :  "  Let  the  brother  of  low  degree  rejoice  in  that  he 
is  exalted,  but  the  rich  in  that  he  is  made  low,"  How 
difficult  to  desist  from  seeking  "  great  things,"  and  in  the 
simple,  godly,  conscientious  discharge  of  daily  duties,  seek 
first  of  all  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  free 
from  all  pride  and  all  ambition. 

But  "  to  this  complexion  must  we  come  at  last."  To 
this  frame  of  mind  we  are  summoned  by  our  Redeemer, 
and  to  this  must  we  attain.  Therefore  cultivate  this  meek 
and  lowly  temper.  By  prayer  and  supplication  ;  by  con- 
stantly remembering  that  tlie  things  which  are  seen  are 
temporal;  by  frequent  meditation  upon  the  vanity  of  earth 
and  of  man  as  mortal,  and  upon  the  glory  and  eternity  of 
heavenly  objects  ;  by  such  methods  as  these,  and  only  by 
such  methods,  can  we  rid  ourselves  of  our  pride  and  am- 
bition, and  obey  the  command  of  God  by  his  prophet : 
"  Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thyself  ?  seek  them  not." 


SERMON  XXY. 

EVERY  CHRISTIAN  A  DEBTOR  TO  THE  PAGAN. 


Romans  i.  14. — "I  am  debtor  both  to  the  Greeks,  and  to  the  Bar- 
barians; both  to  the  wise,  and  the  unwise." 


This  is  the  reason  whicli  the  apostle  Paul  assigns  for  his 
readiness  to  go  to  Rome,  or  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  to 
preach  the  gospel  of  Christ  which  is  the  power  of  God 
unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believes  it.  He  is  a  debtor. 
He  owes  the  gospel  to  the  world.  But  St.  Paul  was  not 
under  any  such  special  and  peculiar  indebtedness,  in  this 
particular,  as  to  make  his  position  different  from  yours 
and  mine.  We  are  too  apt  to  regard  the  prophets,  and 
apostles,  and  martyrs,  as  holding  a  different  relation  to 
the  work  of  evangelizing  the  world  from  that  which  or- 
dinary Christians  sustain ;  and  that  therefore  the  Great 
Steward  will  not  require  of  the  Church  at  large  such  an 
entire  self-sacrifice  in  this  behalf,  as  he  did  of  the  first 
preachers  of  Christianity.  How  ready  the  sluggish  dis- 
ciple is  to  conclude  that  he  is  not  called  upon  to  exercise 
a  self-denial  for  Christian  missions  that  costs  him,  and 
tasks  him,  merely  because  he  is  not  himself  a  missionary. 
Had  he  decided  to  devote  his  life  to  preaching  the  gospel 
to  the  heathen,  there  would  then  be  a  special  obligation 
resting  upon  him  ;  but  not  having  so  decided,  his  relation 
to  the  great  work  of  missions,  he  thinks,  is  distant  and  un- 
17 


386  EVEEY   CHRISTIAN   A 

important.  Such  is  the  unconscious  reasoning  of  too  many 
within  the  Christian  Church ;  and  hence  it  is,  that  the 
work  which  is  dearest  of  all  to  the  heart  of  Christ  makes  so 
little  progress  in  the  world,  compared  with  the  great  num- 
bers and  the  immense  resources  of  the  Christian  Church. 

But  there  is  no  distinction  of  Christians,  anj  more  than 
of  persons,  with  God.  All  Christians  stand  upon  the  same 
position,  in  regard  to  the  work  of  evangelizing  the  world. 
They  are  all  of  them  debtors.  Every  individual  member 
of  the  Christian  Church  owes  the  gospel  to  mankind. 
Each  and  every  disciple  of  Christ  must  say  with  St.  Paul : 
"  I  am  debtor  both  to  the  Greeks  and  the  Barbarians,  both 
to  the  wise  and  the  unwise."  Let  us  then  in  the  first 
place  consider  the  nature  and  strength  of  that  particular 
motive  to  labor  for  the  spread  of  the  gospel  which  is  pre- 
sented in  the  text. 

The  feeling  of  indebtedness,  in  an  honorable  mind,  is  a 
powerful  one.  It  lies  under  all  the  trade  and  commerce 
of  the  world,  and  is  the  spring  which  impels  all  the  wheels 
of  secular  business.  Men  owe  one  another  sums  of  money, 
and  the  endeavor  to  discharge  these  obligations  makes  up 
the  sum  and  substance  of  agricultural,  manufacturing,  and 
mercantile  life.  Hence  it  is,  that  anything  that  injurious- 
ly affects  the  sentiment  of  pecuniary  obligation  strikes  a 
blow  at  the  pecuniary  prosperity  of  a  nation  ;  while  every- 
thing that  contributes  to  deepen  and  strengthen  this  sen- 
timent promotes  national  wealth.  Suppose  that  by  reason 
of  some  false  theory  in  morals,  or  some  strong  workings  of 
human  selfishness,  the  entire  mercantile  community  should 
lose  its  respect  for  contracts,  and  promises,  and  obligations 
of  every  kind ;  suppose  that  the  feeling  of  indebtedness 
should  die  away,  and  an  utter  indifference  to  debts  should 
take  its  place  ;  what  a  total  paralysis  in  all  departments  of 
trade  and  commerce  would  ensue.     This  is  sometimes  seen 


DEBTOR  TO   THE   PAGAN.  387 

upon  a  small  scale,  at  some  particular  crisis.  A  commer- 
cial revulsion  sometimes  occurs  within  a  certain  country, 
or  a  certain  section  of  a  country,  because  mercantile  honor 
has  declined.  Men  lose  confidence  in  each  other,  because 
they  see,  or  think  they  see,  a  lax  morality,  a  false  theory 
of  indebtedness,  creeping  in  and  influencing  their  fellow- 
men  ;  and  the  consequence  is  a  refusal  either  to  buy  or 
to  sell.    And  thus  all  the  wheels  of  business  are  blocked. 

But  the  power  of  this  sentiment  is  seen  very  clearly  in 
the  instance  of  the  individual.  When  a  high-minded  and 
strictly  honorable  man  has  legitimately  come  under  certain 
obligations,  there  is  a  wholesome  pressure  upon  him  which 
elicits  all  his  energies.  He  is  in  debt.  He  feels  the  respon- 
sibility, and  acknowledges  it.  He  proceeds  to  meet  it. 
His  time  is  sacredly  devoted  to  his  business.  He  econo- 
mizes his  expenditures.  He  engages  in  no  rash  or  specula- 
tive transactions.  He  keeps  his  affairs  under  his  own  eye, 
and  bends  all  his  energies  with  sagacity  and  prudence  to 
the  extinguishment  of  his  indebtedness.  Never  are  all  the 
merely  secular  abilities  of  a  man  in  better  tone,  or  braced 
up  to  a  more  vigorous  and  successful  activity,  than  when, 
under  the  sense  of  obligation,  he  proceeds  with  perfect  in- 
tegrity to  obey  the  injunction,  "  Owe  no  man  anything." 
Like  a  well-  built  and  tight  ship,  with  no  gay  display  of 
streamers,  but  with  sails  well  bent,  cordage  new,  strong, 
and  taut,  a  skilful  pilot  at  the  helm,  and  a  thoroughbred 
master  in  command,  such  a  man  is  a  master-spirit.  Though 
the  gales  increase,  and  the  billows  roll,  "  and  the  rapt  ship 
run  on  her  side  so  low  that  she  drinks  water,  and  her  keel 
ploughs  air,"  yet  there  is  concentrated  and  well-applied 
energy  on  board,  and  she  weathers  the  storm. 

But  not  only  does  this  sentiment  of  indebtedness  con- 
stitute a  powerful  motive  to  action :  it  is  also  a  cheerful 
and  an  encouraging  motive.     The  species  of  indebtedness 


388  EVERY   CHRISTIAN   A 

of  which  we  are  speaking,  supposes  the  possibility  of  pay- 
ment. It  implies  a  proper  proportion  between  the  talents 
and  resources  of  the  person,  and  the  amount  of  his 
liabilities.  In  case  his  debt  becomes  so  vast,  and  out  of 
all  relation  to  his  present  and  prospective  means  of  ex- 
tinguishing it,  as  to  render  its  payment  hopeless,  then  the 
sentiment  of  indebtedness  operates  like  an  incubus.  The 
proposition  to  pay  a  debt  as  large  as  that  of  a  nation,  like 
the  proposition  to  lift  a  mountain,  would  be  paralyzing 
upon  any  one  man's  energies.  He  could  not  lift  a  finge*. 
towards  the  impossible  task. 

But  we  are  speaking  of  a  kind  of  indebtedness  that  stands 
in  practicable  proportion  to  individual  ability.  And  in 
this  reference  we  affirm,  that  he  who  feels  the  stimulation 
of  such  a  moderated  obligation  is  under  a  pressure  that 
strengthens,  rather  than  weakens  him.  He  finds  in  his 
very  indebtedness  a  cheerful  and  encouraging  motive  to 
"  go  forth  to  his  work,  and  his  labor,  until  the  evening." 
Every  hour  of  faithful  effort,  every  well-contrived  plan, 
all  his  sagacity,  prudence,  and  economy — the  whole  labor 
of  the  day — tends  directly  and  surely  to  the  extinguish- 
ment of  the  claims  that  lie  against  him.  Men  distinguished 
in  the  monetary  world  have  described  the  sense  of  satis- 
faction, nay,  the  gush  of  pleasure,  which  they  experienced 
in  the  earlier  days  of  their  career,  from  the  excitement 
incident  to  a  gradual  but  certain  overcoming  of  their 
liabilities.  Though  later  years  brought  with  them  vast 
wealth,  yet  they  confessed  that  their  earlier  years  were 
their  happiest — the  most  marked  by  energy,  a  sense  of 
power,  and  the  feeling  of  buoyant  hopefulness. 

Such  is  the  general  nature  and  influence  of  that  senti- 
ment to  which  St.  Paul  gives  utterance,  when  he  says : 
"  I  am  debtor  both  to  the  Greeks,  and  to  the  Barbarians  ; 
I  owe  the  gospel  to  the  wise,  and  to  the  unwise."  And  we 


DEBTOR  TO   THE  PAGAN.  389 

proceed  now  to  apply  what  has  been  said,  to  the  Christianas 
indebtedness  to  the  xinevangelized  pagan. 

I.  In  the  fii'st  place,  every  Christian  owes  the  gospel  to 
the  pagan,  because  of  the  deep  interest  which  Christ  takes 
in  the  pagan.  In  the  account  of  the  last  judgment,  we  are 
taught  that  all  neglect  of  human  welfare  is  neglect  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  that  he  who  cares  nothing  for  unevangelized 
man  cares  nothing  for  the  Son  of  God.  Our  Lord  identi- 
fies himself  with  those  who  have  never  heard  of  his 
gospel,  and  represents  all  discharge  of  duty  to  them  as  dis- 
charge of  duty  to  Him,  and  all  dereliction  of  duty  to  them  as 
dereliction  of  duty  to  Him.  When  those  on  the  right  hand 
shall  ask :  "  Lord,  when  saw  we  thee  an  hungered  and  fed 
thee  ?  or  thirsty  and  gave  thee  drink  ?  When  saw  we  thee  a 
stranger  and  took  thee  in  ?  or  naked  and  clothed  thee  ?  Or 
when  saw  we  thee  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  came  unto  thee  ? 
the  King  shall  answer,  and  say  unto  them,  Yerily  I  say 
unto  you,  inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 
And  when  those  on  the  left  hand  shall  ask :  "  Lord,  when 
saw  we  thee  an  hungered,  or  athirst,  or  a  stranger,  or 
naked,  or  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  did  not  minister  unto  thee  ? 
then  shall  he  answer  them,  saying,  Yerily  I  say  unto  you, 
inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye 
did  it  not  to  me."  In  these  remarkable  words,  the  Divine 
Redeemer  indicates  his  profound  interest  in  every  sinful 
man  without  exception.  Anything  that  is  done  for  hu- 
man salvation,  in  any  nation  or  age,  is  done  for  Him. 
And  the  awful  curse  of  the  merciful  Saviour  falls  upon 
those  who  do  nothing  for  human  welfare.  Jesus  Christ 
compassionates  lost  men  universally,  and  intensely  desires 
their  deliverance  from  sin.  His  compassion  is  so  tender, 
and  his  desire  so  strong,  that  any  one  who  labors  to  save  a 
human  soul  from  sin  labors  for  Him.     He  who  spiritually 


390  EVEEY   CHRISTIAN   A 

feeds,  clothes,  and  medicines  any  sinner,  feeds,  clothes, 
and  medicines  the  Saviour  of  sinners.  Our  Lord  thus 
identifies  himself  with  the  sinful  and  lost  world  for  which 
he  died.  We  have  no  conception  of  the  immensity  of  that 
1  Divine  sympathy  and  compassion  for  man  which  moved 
the  second  Person  of  the  Godhead  to  become  the  Man  of 
sorrows,  and,  in  the  phrase  of  the  prophet,  to  "  take  our 
infirmities  and  bear  our  sicknesses."  When  he  was  upon 
earth,  the  sin  and  suffering  of  the  children  of  men  im- 
mediately and  uniforml}'^  affected  his  heart,  and  we  never 
detect  in  him  the  least  indication  or  exhibition  of  weari- 
ness, or  indifference,  towards  human  woes  and  wants.  So 
absorbed  was  he  in  his  merciful  work,  that  "  his  friends 
went  out  to  lay  hold  on  him,  for  they  said,  He  is  beside 
himself."  When,  upon  that  last  and  sorrowful  journey  to 
Jerusalem,  he  had  reached  the  summit  of  the  Mount  of 
Olives,  and  the  whole  city  burst  upon  his  view,  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears  at  the  thought  of  its  guilt  and  misery. 
Look  through  the  world,  look  through  the  universe,  and 
see  if  there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  his  sorrow — so  pro- 
found, so  spontaneous,  so  unceasing,  so  commiserating. 

This  sympathy  and  compassion  originated  partly  from 
his  Divinity,  and  partly  from  his  humanity.  As  God,  he 
understood  as  no  created  mind  can  understand  what  sin, 
and  guilt,  and  hell  are ;  and  as  man,  he  was  bone  of  man's 
bone,  and  flesh  of  man's  flesh.  The  doctrine  of  the  in- 
carnation explains  this  profound  interest,  and  this  entire 
identification.  The  Divinity  in  his  complex  person  gave 
the  eye  to  see,  and  the  humanity  gave  the  heart  to  feel  and 
suffer ;  and  when  such  an  eye  is  united  with  such  a  heart, 
the  sorrow  and  the  sympathy  are  infinite.  As  God,  the 
Redeemer  was  the  creator  of  men,  and  as  man,  he  was 
their  elder  brother ;  and  therefore  it  is,  that  he  can  so 
unify  himself  with  the  world  of  mankind,  as  he  does  in 


DEBTOK  TO   THE  PAGAN.  391 

these  wonderful  utterances  which  will  constitute  his  rule 
of  judgment  in  the  last  great  day.  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  have 
done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  me.  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the 
least  of  these,  ye  did  it  not  to  meP 

II.  In  the  second  place,  every  Christian  owes  the  gospel 
to  the  unevangelized  pagan,  because  of  his  own  personal 
indebtedness  to  Christ.  That  every  Christian  is  indebted 
to  Christ  will  not  be  denied  for  an  instant.  There  is  no 
claim  equal  to  that  which  results  from  delivering  an  im- 
mortal soul  from  eternal  death.  Language  fails  to  express 
the  absoluteness  of  the  right  which  the  Redeemer  has  to 
the  service  of  his  redeemed  people.  The  right  to  man's 
service  which  he  has  by  virtue  of  his  relation  as  a  Creator 
is  immeasurable.  To  originate  a  being  from  nothing,  and 
then  to  uphold  him  in  existence,  lays  the  foundation  for  a 
claim  that  is  complete  and  indefeasible.  And  did  man- 
kind realize  how  entirely  they  belong  to  their  Maker,  by 
virtue  of  being  his  workmanship  in  a  sense  far  more  literal 
than  that  in  which  we  say  that  a  watch  belongs  to  the 
artisan  who  made  it ;  did  they  feel  the  force  of  the  fact 
that  God  made  them,  and  not  they  themselves ;  they  would 
not  dare  to  set  up  a  claim  to  those  bodies  and  spirits,  those 
talents  and  possessions  which  are  His.  "  I  have  made  the 
earth,  and  created  man  upon  it ;  I,  even  my  hands,  have 
stretched  out  the  heavens,  and  all  their  host  have  I  com- 
manded. Every  beast  of  the  forest  is  mine,  and  the  cattle 
upon  a  thousand  hills,"  saith  the  Almighty. 

But  this  claim  which  God  as  Redeemer  possesses  upon 
a  human  being  whom  he  has  saved  from  eternal  death  is 
even  greater  than  that  of  God  as  Creator.  "  Ye  were  not 
redeemed  with  corruptible  things  as  silver  and  gold,  but 
with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without 
blemish,  and  without  spot."     The  Christian  Church,  many 


392  EVERY   CHRISTIAN  A 

centuries  ago,  was  agitated  with  the  question  whether  it  is 
scriptural  and  proper  to  saj  that  Maiy  was  the  "  mother 
of  God,"  and  that  sinners  are  redeemed  by  the  "  blood  of 
God."  The  phrases,  "  mother  of  God,"  and  "  blood  of 
God,"  were  condemned  by  the  Church  represented  in  gen- 
eral council,  because  those  "who  contended  for  their  use 
were  understood  to  employ  them  in  a  sense  inconsistent 
with  the  Divine  attributes.  They  were  taken  to  mean  that 
Mary  was  the  mother  of  imincarnate  God ;  and  that  the 
blood  spoken  of  was  the  blood  of  wmncarnate  God.  This 
is  incompatible  with  the  impassibility  of  the  Divine  Es- 
sence. But  the  Church  was  willing  to  affirm,  and  did 
affirm,  that  the  Yirgin  Mary  was  the  mother  of  incarnate 
God,  and  that  the  blood  spilled  upon  Calvary  was  the 
blood  of  incarnate  God.  There  is  a  mother  of  the  God- 
man,  and  a  blood  of  the  God-man.  In  this  latter  state- 
ment, the  birth  and  the  blood  are  confined  to  the  human 
nature  of  Jesus  Christ,  while,  at  the  same  time,  this  birth 
and  this  blood  are  infinitely  exalted  and  dignified  above 
the  birth  and  blood  of  an  ordinary  man,  by  the  union  of 
the  humanity  with  the  Divinity.  This  makes  the  sacrifice 
of  Christ  more  than  finite,  and  more  than  human.  It  be- 
comes an  infinite  and  divine  oblation.  And  to  indicate 
this,  the  Scripture  itself  employs  the  phraseology  which  by 
a  wrong  interpretation  led  to  the  Nestorian  controversy. 
St.  Paul,  addressing  the  elders  of  Ephesus  at  Miletus, 
says :  "  Take  heed  therefore  unto  yourselves,  and  to  all 
the  flock  over  which  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  you  over- 
seers, to  feed  the  Church  of  God,  which  he  hath  purchased 
with  his  own  blood."     (Acts  xx.  28.) 

If  this  language  be  explained  as  the  Church  explained 
it,  by  the  union  of  two  distinct  natures  in  the  one  person 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  so  that  he  is  at  once  truly  God 
and  truly  man,  then  it  teaches  the  Christian  that  he  has 


DEBTOR  TO   THE   PAGAN.  393 

been  redeemed  by  no  merely  common  and  finite  sacrifice ; 
that  his  sin  has  been  expiated  by  the  blood  of  a  God-man, 
the  "  pi'ecious  blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  blem- 
ish and  without  spot."  And  it  is  this  great  fact  which 
brings  every  redeemed  sinner  under  an  infinite  indebted- 
ness to  his  Saviour.  He  has  been  purchased  by  the  blood 
of  God  incarnate.  It  was  this  truth  that  filled  the  Apostle 
Paul  with  such  an  overwhelming  sense  of  his  duty  to  Jesus 
Christ.  This  it  was,  that  made  him  say  :  "  I  am  debtor 
both  to  the  Greeks  and  to  the  Barbarians.  I  owe  the 
knowledge  of  this  great  atonement  which  my  Redeemer 
has  made  for  the  sin  of  the  whole  world,  to  every  human 
creature,  wise  or  unwise,  high  or  low,  rich  or  poor."  The 
stupendous  fact  that  God  Almighty  imites  himself  with 
the  sinner's  nature,  and  dies  in  the  sinner's  stead,  lays 
upon  that  sinner  an  immeasurable  obligation  to  live  and 
labor  for  the  same  world  and  the  same  object  for  which, 
in  the  phrase  of  the  hymn,  "  God  the  Mighty  Maker 
died." 

We  have  thus  considered  the  nature  of  the  feeling  of  in- 
debtedness, and  the  foundation  upon  which  it  rests,  with 
reference  to  the  duty  of  every  Christian  to  obey  the  great 
command  of  his  Redeemer,  to  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature.  As  to  its  source  and  foundation,  it  springs  out 
of  the  fact  of  Christ's  deep  interest  in  the  salvation  of  men, 
and  of  the  believer's  personal  redemption  by  the  blood  of 
incarnate  God  ;  and  as  to  its  nature  and  operation,  it  is  a 
powerful  and  a  cheerful  motive,  and  principle  of  action. 
We  now  proceed  to  draw  some  conclusions  from  the 
subject. 

1.  We  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  every  Christian 

should  look  upon  the  work  of  evangelizing  the  world  as  a 

debt  which  he  literally  and  actually  owes  to  Christ,  and  to 

his  fellow-man.     He  should  heartily  acknowledge  this  debt, 

17* 


394  EVEEY   CHRISTIAN   A 

and  not  attempt  to  free  himself  from  it,  by  explaining  it 
away  as  a  figure  of  speech. 

It  is  a  great  honor  and  privilege  to  be  allowed  to  labor 
together  with  Go^  in  anything.  When  we  consider  how 
imperfect  and  unworthy  our  services  are,  it  is  strange  that 
the  Infinite  One,  who  is  excellent  in  working,  and  who 
doeth  all  things  well,  should  admit  us  into  a  fellowship  of 
toil  with  him.  Yet  so  it  is.  "  We  are  laborers  together 
with  God,"  says  the  Apostle.  If  we  felt  the  full  signifi- 
cance of  this  truth,  we  should  need  no  further  motive  to 
self-sacrifice  in  the  work  of  preaching  Christ.  The  honor 
and  privilege  would  be  enough.  But,  alas!  we  do  not. 
And  therefore  we  need  to  stimulate  ourselves  to  greater 
activity,  by  the  consideration  of  our  serious  and  solemn 
duty  in  the  premises. 

"  Freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give."  This  was  the 
command  which  our  blessed  Saviour  gave  to  his  twelve 
disciples,  when  he  sent  them  out  as  his  commissioned  her- 
alds. He  had  endowed  them  with  miraculous  powers — 
"power  against  unclean  spirits  to  cast  them  out,  and  to 
heal  all  manner  of  sickness  and  all  manner  of  disease." 
This  endowment  laid  them  under  obligation  to  employ  it 
faithfully^  and  scrupulously^  in  his  service.  Suppose  now 
that,  like  Simon  the  sorcerer,  they  had  attempted  to  use 
this  supernaturalism  for  their  own  selfish  purposes;  sup- 
pose that  instead  of  giving  health  to  the  sick,  and  sight  to 
the  blind,  freely  and  without  price,  they  had  sold  miracles, 
and  taken  money  for  the  marvellous  cures.  How  instan- 
taneously would  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb,  the  merciful  Re- 
deemer who  had  endowed  them  and  commissioned  them, 
have  fallen  upon  them.  But  the  case  would  have  been 
the  same,  had  they  neglected  to  make  any  use  at  all  of 
their  supernatural  gifts.  By  being  thus  selected  by  the 
Redeemer,  and  clothed  with  miraculous  virtues,  they  were 


DEBTOR  TO   THE   PAGAN.  395 

constituted  debtors  to  the  inhabitants  of  Jndea.  They 
owed  these  healing  mercies  to  the  sick  and  the  dying,  and 
the  mere  non-use  of  them  would  have  been  a  sin  and  a 
crime. 

Precisely  such  is  the  relation  which  every  individual 
Christian  sustains  to  that  power  of  healing  spiritual  mala- 
dies, and  saving  from  spiritual  death,  which  is  contained 
in  the  gospel  of  Christ.  Having  himself  freely  received 
this  gospel,  he  is  now  under  a  solemn  duty  to  give  it  to 
others.  If  he  should  formally  refuse  to  impart  the  gift ; 
if  he  should  deliberately  decry  and  oppose  Christian  mis- 
sions ;  if  he  should  put  obstacles  in  the  way  of  those  who 
are  endeavoring  to  evangelize  the  nations ;  he  would  of 
course  incur  the  Divine  condemnation.  But  so  he  will,  if 
he  simply  neglects  to  discharge  his  indebtedness ;  if  he 
merely  non-uses  the  precious  and  the  marvellous  treasure 
which  has  been  committed  to  him  in  virtue  of  his  own 
discipleship.  That  Christian,  if  we  can  call  him  such, 
who  should  trust  in  the  blood  of  the  God-man  for  personal 
justification  in  the  great  day  of  judgment,  and  yet  never 
commend  this  same  method  of  salvation  to  the  acceptance 
of  his  fellow-creatures,  either  himself  personally  or  by 
proxy  through  some  missionary,  would  be  precisely  like 
that  Judas  who  carried  the  bag  and  what  was  put  therein, 
but  who  expended  the  contents  upon  his  own  traitorous 
and  worthless  self. 

We  cannot  too  carefully  remember  that  the  work  of 
missions  is  not  an  optional  matter,  for  a  disciple  of  Christ. 
It  is  a  debt.  "Woe  is  me,"  said  St.  Paul,  "if  I  preach 
not  the  gospel."  The  "treasure"  which  "has  been  com- 
mitted to  earthen  vessels"  must  be  made  over  to  those 
for  whom  it  is  intended,  or  it  will  prove  to  be  a  poison 
and  a  curse.  It  is  like  the  manna  which  God  bestowed 
upon  the  Israelites  in  the  desert.     So  long  as  they  used  it, 


396  EVERY   CHRISTIAN   A 

it  was  the  bread  of  heaven  and  angels'  food  ;  but  when 
they  hoarded  it,  it  became  corruption  and  putrefaction  in 
their  very  hands.  If  the  Church  looks  upon  the  gospel, 
and  the  preaching  of  it,  as  a  gift  which  it  has  freely  re- 
ceived and  from  which  untold  blessings  have  come  upon 
herself,  and  heartily  acknowledges  her  obligation  to  im- 
part this  gift  to  others ;  if  she  does  not  regard  this  evan- 
gelizing work  as  an  optional  matter,  but  a  most  solemn 
debt  to  her  redeeming  God  and  her  perishing  fellow-crea- 
tures ;  she  will  go  forward,  and  by  the  grace  of  God  fulfil 
her  obligations.  But  if  this  sentiment  of  indebtedness  de- 
clines in  her  mind  and  heart,  then  she  will  lapse  back  into 
indifference  and  apathy,  and  these  are  the  liarbingers  of  a 
corrupt  Christianity,  which  will  be  buried  in  one  common 
grave  with  Paganism,  Mohammedanism,  and  all  forms  of 
human  sin  and  error. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  we  remark  in  view  of  this  sub- 
ject, that  Christians  should  labor  zealously  to  discharge 
this  debt  to  Christ,  and  to  the  world  of  sinners  for  whom 
he  died. 

In  speaking  of  the  influence  of  the  feeling  of  indebtedness, 
we  had  occasion  to  remark  that  it  is  always  a  stimulus  to 
effort,  in  case  the  payment  of  the  debt  is  within  the  com- 
pass of  possibility.  Such  is  the  fact  in  the  instance  before 
us.  The  debt  which  the  believer  is  to  pay  is  not  his  debt  to 
eternal  justice.  That  he  can  never  discharge.  That  is  be- 
yond all  created  power.  Christians  are  not  to  send  the 
gospel  to  the  Greek  and  the  Barbarian,  for  the  purpose  of 
making  an  atonement  for  their  sins,  and  thereby  cancelling 
their  obligations  to  law  and  justice.  That  debt  Christ 
himself  has  paid  ;  and  paid  to  the  uttermost  farthing. 

But  this  is  the  debt  which  you,  and  I,  and  every  pro- 
fessed disciple  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  owes,  and  which 
we  must  discharge.     It  is  the  obligation  to  do  here  upon 


DEBTOR  TO  THE   PAGAN.  397 

earth,  in  our  own  little  period  of  time,  and  our  own  little 
section  of  space,  all  that  in  us  lies  to  "  preach  the  gospel 
to  every  creature."  If  the  providence  and  Spirit  of  God 
indicate  that  we  are  to  go  in  person,  then  we  are  to  go  in 
person.  If  the  providence  of  God  has  forbidden  this,  but 
has  placed  in  our  hands  the  silver  and  the  gold  by  which 
we  can  send  our  representative,  then  we  are  to  give  our 
silver  and  our  gold,  with  our  prayers  for  the  Divine  bless- 
ing upon  it.  One  or  the  other  of  these  two  courses  must 
be  pursued,  in  order  to  discharge  our  indebtedness  to  our 
Redeemer  and  our  fellow-sinners. 

And,  by  the  grace  of  God,  this  can  be  done.  The  labor 
to  which  we  are  called  by  our  Lord  and  Master  is  not  of 
that  immense,  and  infinite  kind  which  he  undertook  when 
he  veiled  his  deity  in  our  flesh,  and  sweat  great  drops  of 
blood  under  the  burden  of  God's  wrath,  in  our  stead.  It 
is  that  moderate  and  proportioned  species  of  labor,  which 
consists  in  giving  back  to  Christ  what  we  have  received 
from  him.  This  is  all,  "We  are  to  provide  salvation  for 
the  destitute,  out  of  resources  which  God  has  first  bestowed 
upon  us.  If  God  has  given  us  the  requisite  mental  and 
moral  powers,  and  the  means  of  education  and  discipline, 
these  we  are  to  employ  in  personal  evangelistic  service, 
if  such  be  the  leadings  of  his  grace  and  providence.  God 
has  given  us  personal  influence  more  or  less,  and  a  portion  of 
this  world's  goods  more  or  less,  and  these  we  are  to  employ 
in  making  the  world  better.  We  repeat  it ;  the  disciple 
of  Christ,  is  to  "  give  to  God  the  things  that  are  God's  ; " 
to  pay  his  debt  out  of  God's  own  purse  and  treasury.  And 
therefore  it  is,  we  say  again,  that  this  indebtedness  is  not 
of  that  infinite  and  superhuman  nature  which  puts  it 
entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  a  mortal.  It  is  simply  to 
employ,  to  the  best  of  our  opportunity,  our  talents,  our 
time,  our  wealth,  om-  prayers,  in  extending  the  knowledge 


398  EVERY   CHRISTIAN   A 

of  Christ  to  the  whole  world.  Each  and  every  one  of 
these  things  comes  to  ns,  ultimately,  from  God,  And  is 
it  not  a  deep  and  selfish  sin  that  refuses,  or  neglects  to 
employ  in  his  service  even  a  portion  of  his  overflowing 
bounty,  but  squanders  it  upon  the  pampered  and  worldly 
creature  ? 

3.  The  third  and  final  observation  suggested  by  the 
subject  is,  that  the  faithful  Christian  will  be  rewarded  for 
his  discharge  of  his  obligations  to  the  un evangelized  world. 
In  that  memorable  picture  which  our  Lord  draws  of  the 
final  day,  he  represents  himself  as  saying  to  those  who 
have  fed  the  hungry,  clothed  the  naked,  and  visited  the 
prisoner :  "  Come  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the 
kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of 
the  world,"  God  rewards  his  own  grace.  His  people, 
who  in  this  world  have  been  enabled  by  him  to  discharge 
their  duty  with  measurable  fidelity,  will  be  crowned  with 
glory  and  honor  in  the  next.  It  is  not  by  an  absolute 
merit  that  the  disciple  acquires  this  immense  compensation. 
He  has  done  what  he  has,  only  in  the  strength  of  Christ, 
and  therefore  his  reward  is  a  gracious  reward.  Hence  we 
find  that  the  faithful  disciples  are  surprised  to  learn,  in  the 
great  day,  that  their  imperfect  services  have  been  so  highly 
estimated  by  the  Lord  and  Judge.  They  cannot  imagine 
that  they  deserve  such  an  amazing  recompense.  "  When 
saw  we  thee  an  hungered  and  fed  thee ;  or  thirsty  and 
gave  thee  drink  ?  When  saw  we  thee  a  stranger  and  took 
thee  in  ?  or  naked  and  clothed  thee  ?  Or  when  saw  we 
thee  sick  or  in  prison  and  came  unto  thee  ? "  It  will  in- 
deed be  a  surprise,  and  a  joy  unspeakable,  when  the  be- 
liever, who  is  deeply  conscious  of  his  imperfect  services, 
shall  yet  hear  from  the  lips  of  the  Infallible  One :  "  Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of 
thy  Lord."     But  he  will  hear  this  plaudit,  because  God 


DEBTOR  TO   THE  PAGAN.  399 

gives  "  grace  for  grace,"  and  by  grace  the  believer  is  en- 
abled to  discharge  the  debt  which  he  owes  to  Christ,  and 
to  his  fellow-men.  And  he  will  say  with  St.  I'aul,  who  in 
our  text  confesses  himself  to  be  a  debtor  to  the  Greek  and 
the  Barbarian  :  "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  kept 
the  faith,  I  have  labored  more  abundantly  than  they  all, 
yet  not  1  but  the  grace  of  God  that  was  in  me.  Hence- 
forth there  is  a  crown  of  righteousness  laid  up  for  me,  and 
not  for  me  only,  but  for  all  who  love  his  appearing." 


SERMON  XXVI. 

THE  CERTAIN  SUCCESS  OF  EVANGELISTIC  LABOR. 


Isaiah  Iv.  10,  11. — "For  as  the  rain  cometh  down  and  the  snow 
from  heaven,  and  returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and 
maketh  it  bring  forth  and  bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and 
bread  to  the  eater ;  so  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  my 
mouth  :  it  shall  not  return  unto  me  void  ;  but  it  shall  accomplish  that 
which  I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it." 


It  is  the  duty  of  the  Christian  Church  to  preach  the 
gospel  to  everj  creature,  because  Christ  the  Head  of  the 
Church  has  commanded  it  so  to  do.  It  follows  from  this, 
that  every  individual  member  is  obliged  to  contribute  to 
this  result,  in  proportion  to  his  means  and  opportunities. 
No  one  believer  is  charged  with  the  performance  of  the 
whole  work.  St.  Paul  was  not  bound  to  evangelize  the 
entire  globe,  but  only  to  preach  as  far  and  as  wide  as  he 
could.  The  work  that  is  assigned  to  the  Church  as  a 
whole  cannot  be  devolved  upon  a  few  persons,  and  no  single 
generation  is  required  to  perform  the  service  of  all  the 
generations  of  believers.  On  the  contrary,  each  and  every 
disciple  of  Christ  has  laid  upon  him  a  certain  portion  of 
this  Christian  service  which  he  is  solemnly  bound  to 
render.  The  command  to  the  single  Christian :  "  Go 
work  this  day  in  my  vineyard,"  is  as  imperative  as  the 
command  to  the  whole  Church :  "  Go  preach  my  gospel  to 


SUCCESS   OF  EVANGELISTIC   LABOR.  401 

every  creature."  The  entire  labor  of  evangelizing  the 
globe  is  thus  distributed  among  the  generations  of  Chris- 
tians, and  among  the  innumerable  individuals  composing 
them,  and  if  each  one  were  as  faithful  in  his  own  sphere 
and  time  as  was  the  apostle  Paul,  this  sinful  and  miserable 
world  would  present  a  far  different  appearance  from  what 
it  now  does. 

Inasmuch  as  each  and  every  disciple  of  Christ  is  thus 
bound  to  contribute  his  share  towards  the  evangelization  of 
the  globe,  it  becomes  an  interesting  and  important  ques- 
tion, whether  the  work  is  feasible.  May  it  not  be  that 
the  Church  is  attempting  too  much  ?  The  larger  part  of 
the  world  is  still  pagan,  and  totally  ignorant  of  God  in 
Christ ;  and  a  considerable  part  of  nominal  Christendom 
consists  of  unrenewed  men  who  are  as  distant  from  heaven 
as  the  heathen,  so  far  as  the  new  birth  is  concerned.  In 
comparison  with  the  entire  human  family,  the  Church  of 
Christ,  as  the  hymn  tells  us,  is  still 

"  '  A  little  spot  enclosed  by  grace, 

Out  of  the  world's  wide  wilderness." 

How  can  the  Church  at  large,  and  the  individual  Chris- 
tian, be  certain  that  they  are  not  undertaking  a  work  that 
is  intrinsically  impossible  of  performance?  I^o  laborer 
desires  to  spend  his  strength  for  nought.  It  was  one  of 
the  torments  of  the  pagan  hell,  perpetually  to  roll  a  stone 
up  a  hill,  and  just  as  it  reached  the  summit,  perpetually 
to  see  it  slip  from  the  hands  and  roll  back  to  the  bottom. 
It  was  another  of  the  torments  of  Tartarus,  to  draw  water 
in  a  sieve  forever  and  forevermore.  These  futile  labors  of 
Sisyphus,  and  the  daughters  of  Danaus,  are  emblematic 
of  that  species  of  effort  which  cannot  succeed,  by  reason 
of  an  intrinsic  infeasibility.  N^o  man  can  conquer  the 
force  of  gravitation.     He  may  resist  it,  but  he  cannot  con- 


402  THE   CERTAIN   SUCCESS 

quer  it ;  the  stone  and  the  drop  of  water  will  eventually 
fall  to  the  ground,  in  spite  of  the  most  persevering  efPorts 
to  the  contrary.  Is  the  endeavor  to  preach  the  gospel 
everywhere,  and  instrumentally  to  convert  the  souls  of  all 
men,  a  labor  of  this  kind  ?  Is  the  Church  engaged  in 
the  toil  of  Sisyphus  ?     If  so,  it  is  work  without  hope,  and 

"  Work  without  hope  draws  nectar  in  a  sieve, 
And  hope  without  an  object  cannot  live." 

Unless  the  people  of  God  have  sure  and  strong  reasons  for 
believing  that  the  enterprise  in  which  they  are  engaged — ■ 
the  endeavor  to  put  a  Bible  into  every  man's  hand,  and  to 
impress  its  truths  upon  his  heart — is  within  the  compass  of 
possibility,  they  ought  to  cease  from  their  labors.  And 
if,  on  the  other  hand,  they  have  in  the  purposes,  promises, 
truth,  and  power  of  God,  an  infallible  certainty  of  success 
in  this  endeavor,  then  they  ought  to  toil  with  a  hundred- 
fold more  energy,  and  a  hundredfold  more  courage. 

We  propose  to  mention  some  of  the  reasons  that  make 
it  certain  that  evangelistic  labor  will  succeed ;  that  the 
effort  of  the  Church  to  preach  Christ  crucified  will  no  more 
fail  of  its  effect,  than  the  rain  will  fail  to  water  the  earth, 
and  cause  the  seeds  that  are  sown  in  it  to  germinate. 

I.  We  argue  and  derive  the  certainty  of  success  in  evan- 
gelistic labor,  in  the  first  place,  from  the  nature  of  Divine 
truth.  There  is  something  in  the  quality  and  characteris- 
tics of  the  doctrine  which  we  are  commanded  to  preach  to 
every  creature,  that  promises  and  prophesies  a  triumph. 
The  word  of  God  is  both  living,  and  quickening.  This  is 
implied  in  the  figure  which  the  prophet  Isaiah  employs  in 
the  text.  "  As  the  rain  cometh  down  from  heaven,  and 
returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the  earth  and  maketh 
it  to  bring  forth  and  bud,  so  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth 
forth  out  of  my  mouth."     This  is  the  declaration  of  God 


OF   EVAIiGELISTIC   LABOR.  403 

himself,  who  understands  the  intrinsic  nature  of  his  own 
Revelation  ;  and  by  it  he  teaches  us  that  there  is  no  greater 
adaptedness  in  moisture  to  fructify  the  ground,  and  ger- 
minate a  corn  of  wheat,  than  there  is  in  Biblical  doctrine 
to  renew  and  convert  a  human  soul. 

For  the  truth  which  the  evangelist  scatters  upon  the 
printed  page,  or  teaches  from  his  own  lips,  is  superhu- 
man. It  does  not  originate  within  the  sphere  of  man, 
and  man's  reason.  The  Bible  contains  a  mass  of  informa- 
tion that  issues  from  an  inspired  sphere  and  circle,  and 
therefore  differs  in  kind  from  all  other  books.  We  know 
very  well  the  difference  between  the  truths  of  mathematics, 
and  the  truths  of  poetry.  They  proceed  from  two  different 
species  of  perception.  The  poet's  intuition  is  so  diverse 
from  that  of  the  man  of  science,  that  we  never  confound 
poetry  with  science.  On  the  contrary,  we  know  that  the 
one  destroys  the  other ;  and  it  has  passed  into  a  proverb, 
that  he  who  is  made  for  a  poet  is  spoiled  for  a  mathema- 
tician. From  a  college  of  savans,  we  do  not  look  for  a  Para- 
dise Lost ;  and  from  the  "  laureate  fraternity  "  of  poets,  we 
do  not  expect  a  Mecanique  Celeste.  This  inadequately 
illustrates  the  immense  diversity  between  Divine  Revela- 
tion, and  human  literature.  The  former  issues  from  the 
mind  of  God  ;  from  an  intellectual  sphere  infinitely  higher 
than  that  of  the  human  mind.  That  inspired  circle,  with- 
in which  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  Kew  Testaments 
took  their  origin,  differed  from  all  other  intellectual  cir- 
cles, be  they  schools  of  religion,  or  of  philosophy,  or  of 
poetry,  or  of  science,  by  a  difference  to  which  that  between 
the  mind  of  a  Milton  and  the  mind  of  a  Laplace  is  only 
the  faintest  approximation. 

This  fact  we  need  to  keep  in  view,  if  we  would  see  any 
ground  of  certainty  for  the  success  of  the  Christian  evan- 
gelist.    Unless  he  is  commissioned  to  teach  something  that 


404  THE  CERTAIN  SUCCESS 

is  superhuman  ;  something  that  did  not  take  origin  within 
the  sphere  of  earth  and  of  man ;  something  that  is  not 
found  in  the  national  literatures  of  the  world  ;  he  will 
spend  his  strength  for  nought.  The  apostles  of  human 
reason,  the  inventors  of  human  systems,  and  their  disciples, 
have  labored  for  six  thousand  years  without  radically 
changing  a  single  individual  man,  or  converting  any  of  the 
sin  and  misery  of  earth  into  the  holiness  and  happiness  of 
heaven ;  and  if  the  Christian  herald  does  not  go  entirely 
beyond  their  sphere,  and  proclaim  truths  from  another  and 
higher  world,  he  will  only  repeat  their  futile  endeavor. 
He  must  teach  the  word  and  commandments  of  God ;  a 
higher  doctrine  than  the  commandments  of  man,  and  a 
wisdom  superior  to  that  of  any  people,  Hebrew  or  Hin- 
doo, Greek  or  Eoman.' 

'  The  erroneous  postulate  of  all  rationalistic  Biblical  Criticism  is,  that 
the  Bible  is  a  national  literature,  and  not  a  Divine  Revelation — that  the 
books  of  the  Old  Testament  are  the  natural  development  of  the  Hebrew 
mind  as  the  poems  of  Homer,  the  dramas  of  ^schylus,  and  the  dia- 
logues of  Plato  are  of  the  Greek  mind.  From  this  it  follows,  that  Moses, 
Samuel,  David,  and  Isaiah  were  not  above  the  level  of  their  nation,  but 
thought,  felt,  and  taught  in  harmony  with  the  common  national  senti- 
ment of  their  day.  This  view  makes  the  Hebrew  nation  to  be  the  real 
source  of  the  Old  Testament  doctrines  and  miracles  (myths) ;  and  the 
Hebrew  Bible  to  be  the  Hebrew  literature.  If  this  be  so,  the  Old  Testa- 
ment is  no  more  infallible  than  the  Vedas,  and  its  antiquated  truths 
may  fitly  be  compared  to  "  Hebrew  old  clothes." 

A  recent  writer  who  tries  to  retain  the  doctrine  of  the  inspiration  of 
Scripture  while  surrendering  that  of  its  infallibility,  adopts  a  modifica- 
tion of  this  view.  He  says  that  "the  nation  is  inspired.  This  is  the 
primary  fact.  The  inspiration  of  Moses,  Isaiah,  or  Ezekiel,  is  the  sec- 
ondary fact."  (Ladd's  Sacred  Scripture  I.  117;  II.  483.)  But  this  is 
refuted  by  the  fact,  that  the  history  of  Israel  is  that  of  a  continual  con- 
flict between  the  national  sentiment  and  opinions,  and  the  inspired  doc- 
trines. Tlie  Old  Testament  Scriptures  teach  monotheism,  the  fact  of 
sin  and  guilt,  and  promise  a  spiritual  and  Divine  Redeemer ;  but  the 
nation,  whenever  left  to  its  own  natural  development,  substituted  in 


OF  EVANGELISTIC   LABOK.  405 

In  this  fact,  there  is  great  encouragement  to  diligence 
and  perseverance,  npon  the  part  of  every  disciple  of  Christ, 
to  proclaim  Divine  truth  in  every  form  and  manner  pos- 
sible. Revealed  truth  is  immortal.  It  can  never  perish. 
You  may  educate  a  child  or  a  man  by  the  choicest  secular 
methods,  and  may  put  him  in  communication  with  the 
ripest  lore  of  the  ancient  and  the  modern  world ;  he  may 
become  a  highly  disciplined  scholar,  and  may  leave  behind 
him  an  illustrious  name  in  the  annals  of  literature ;  but 
the  knowledge  which  he  acquires,  and  which  he  transmits, 
shall  all  pass  away.  "Whether  there  be  tongues  they 
shall  cease ;  whether  there  be  knowledge  it  shall  pass 
away."  It  ought  to  extinguish  all  the  proud  ambition  of 
a  merely  earthly  scholarship,  to  consider  how  transitory 
is  all  knowledge  that  is  not  divine,  religious,  and  in- 
spired. It  is  strictly  true,  that  no  truth,  no  doctrine, 
shall  abide  for  millenniums,  shall  abide  for  eternity,  but 
the  truth  and  doctrine  of  God.  Consider  Shakespeare  for 
example.  This  was  the  most  comprehensive,  capacious, 
original,  creative  intellect  that  ever  inhabited  a  human 
body.  Take  him  all  in  all,  he  possessed  more  power  of 
intuition,  and  of  expression,  than  any  other  human  being ; 
and  the  addition  which  he  made  to  the  stock  of  uninspired 
human  literature,  and  culture,  is  greater,  more  original, 
more  quickening  and  fertilizing  to  the  mind  of  man,  than 
that  of  any  other  author,  ancient  or  modern.  John  Dry- 
den  was  within  the  bounds  of  moderation,  when  he  pro- 
nounced "  that  Shakespeare  was  the  man  who  of  all  mod- 

their  place  polytheism,  self-righteousness,  and  an  earthly  Messiah.  Had 
the  nation,  like  its  small  circle  of  "  holy  men,"  been  "  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  there  would  not  have  been  these  two  contradictory  sys- 
tems. The  only  reason  why  the  Hebrew  people  did  not  become  a  nation 
of  idolaters,  was  the  restraining  presence  among  them  of  a  college  of  in- 
spired prophets  and  legislators — a  wheel  within  a  wheel. 


406  THE  CERTAIN  SUCCESS 

em,  and  perhaps  ancient  poets,  had  the  largest  and  most 
comprehensive  soul."  But  where  will  the  Shakespearian 
drama  be,  ten  million  years  from  now  ?  "Who  will  read 
the  play  of  Hamlet,  marvellous  as  it  is,  in  the  eternal 
years  of  God  ?  Far  are  we  from  despising  the  really  grand 
achievements  of  the  human  intellect,  in  literature,  art,  and 
science.  They  have  their  function,  and  appropriate  work 
to  perform  in  the  education  of  the  human  race.  But  they 
are  finite,  mixed  with  error,  unrelated  to  the  salvation  and 
destiny  of  the  human  soul,  and  therefore  transitory.  Ex- 
cepting those  elements  in  them  which  have  been  derived 
from  the  eternal  fountain  of  truth,  and  which  therefore 
harmonize  with  the  kingdom  of  God,  they  are  all  of  them 
to  disappear,  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come.  They 
are  all  to  give  place  to  that  higher  intuition,  that  beatific 
vision  of  truth  and  of  beauty,  which  is  in  reserve  for  the 
pure  in  heart.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  human  art,  hu- 
man science,  and  human  knowledge — all  that  the  fallible 
and  imperfect  human  intellect  has  wrought  out,  in  these 
centuries  of  dimness  and  of  sin — like 

"  The  cloud-capped  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 

shall  dissolve, 
And  leave  not  a  rack  behind." 

But  not  so,  with  Divine  truth.  That  species  of  knowl- 
edge which  the  Christian  Church  possesses  in  the  Scrip- 
tures of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  and  of  which  it  is 
the  appointed  depositary  and  teacher,  has  in  it  nothing 
fallible,  nothing  transitory.  That  Christian  disciple,  or 
missionary,  who  is  instrumental  in  teaching  a  single  hu- 
man soul,  either  in  America  or  in  Africa,  in  the  ninth 
century  or  in  the  nineteenth,  that  "  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  that  whosoever 


OF   EVANGELISTIC   LABOE.  407 

believeth  in  him  might  not  perish,  but  might  have  ever- 
lasting life,"  announces  a  truth  that  will  be  of  as  momen- 
tous importance  ten  million  years  hence,  as  it  is  at  this 
very  moment.  Schools  of  literature  have  their  day,  lose 
their  interest,  and  give  place  to  others  that  are  subject  to 
the  same  vicissitudes.  But  Christian  doctrines  never  have 
their  day.  They  are  subject  to  no  fashions.  Sin  is  as 
real  and  as  hateful  now,  as  it  ever  was.  Hell  is  as  lurid 
and  awful  now,  as  when  Satan  and  his  host  were  hurled 
into  it.  Tlie  blood  of  Christ  is  as  precious,  the  doc- 
trine of  the  divine  clemency  is  as  peace-giving,  now,  as  it 
was  when  our  Lord  said  to  the  sinful  woman,  "  Thy  sins 
are  forgiven."  Instead  of  waning  in  truthfulness  and  im- 
portance, the  doctrines  of  Revelation  acquire  a  deeper 
truthfulness  and  a  more  solemn  significance,  as  the  cen- 
turies roll  away.  Those  truths  relating  to  God,  Man, 
and  the  God-man,  which  the  Scriptures  have  now  made 
the  common  heritage  of  the  beggar  on  the  dung-hill  and 
the  king  on  the  throne  ;  those  doctrines  relating  to  human 
apostasy  and  human  redemption,  which  the  Church  is 
commanded  to  teach  to  every  creature ;  are  the  word  of 
God  "which  liveth  and  abideth  forever;"  they  are  the 
immortal  seed  of  a  life  everlasting. 

Here,  then,  is  a  ground  of  certainty  that  the  work  of  the 
Christian  evangelist  will  succeed.  In  lodging  the  truths 
of  the  Bible  in  any  human  soul,  you  are  placing  some- 
thing there  which  is  literally  eternal ;  which  will  have  the 
same  value  millions  and  billions  of  ages  from  now.  No 
lapse  of  time  can  destroy  its  truthfulness,  or  its  import- 
ance. The  work  which  you  do  when  you  put  the  few 
pages  of  a  tract  in  the  hands  of  an  unrenewed  man,  and 
by  your  prayerful  earnestness  are  instrumental  in  its  being 
wrought  into  the  texture  of  his  mind  and  heart,  will 
endure  forever.     You  may  build  a  pyramid ;  but  it  will 


408  THE   CERTAIN  SUCCESS 

one  day  be  part  and  particle  of  the  sands  that  are  blown 
and  sifted  by  the  winds  of  the  desert.  You  may  com- 
pose an  Iliad  or  a  Macbeth  ;  but  it  will  lose  its  interest, 
and  disappear  from  the  memory  of  mortals,  when  they 
stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God.  But  if  you  teach 
to  any  human  creature  the  words  of  Jehovah  ;  if  you 
mortise  the  law  and  the  gospel  into  the  framework  of  the 
human  mind  ;  you  erect  a  structure  which  it  is  not  in  the 
power  of  man,  or  of  everlasting  time,  to  tear  down  and 
destroy. 

Not  only  is  Divine  truth  immortal  in  its  nature,  but  it 
can  never  be  expelled  from  the  mind.  Teach  a  child  or  a 
man,  for  example,  the  true  Biblical  doctrine  of  sin ;  ^x  it 
in  his  mind  that  God  abhors  wickedness,  and  will  punish  it 
everlastingly ;  and  you  have  imparted  something  to  him 
which  he  can  never  get  rid  of.  He  may  lose  sight  of  it  for  a 
week,  or  a  month,  or  a  year,  or  ten  years,  but  he  cannot  lose 
sight  of  it  for  eternity.  It  will  sooner  or  later,  and  with 
more  than  the  certainty  of  a  planet's  motion,  emerge  within 
the  horizon  of  his  consciousness,  and  fill  him  with  terror  if 
he  is  an  impenitent  sinner.  In  imparting  to  his  mind  this 
truth  concerning  the  holy  nature  of  God,  and  the  wicked- 
ness of  sin,  you  have  imparted  to  him  something  like  a 
fatal  secret,  which  will  haunt  and  waylay  the  soul  through 
all  the  years  of  open  or  of  secret  transgression.  One  of 
the  most  powerful  of  modern  fictions '  is  founded  upon  the 
accidental  discovery,  by  a  servant,  of  a  fatal  secret  belong- 
ing to  his  master.  The  discovery  fills  his  whole  life  with 
fear  and  apprehension,  and  drives  him  to  the  borders  of 
insanity.  He  would  give  worlds,  if  he  had  not  made  that 
discovery ;  he  would  give  the  universe,  if  he  could  forget 
it.     But  the  secret  has  come  to  his  knowledge,  and  he 

'  Godwin's  Caleb  Williams. 


OF   EVANGELISTIC   LABOR.  409 

cannot  erase  it  from  his  memory.  There  is  an  art  of  re- 
membering, but  no  art  of  forgetting.  The  secret  stays 
with  him  and  by  him  lilco  a  fiend,  and  he  cannot  get 
from  under  its  black  shadow.  Are  there  not  on  record 
many  instances  in  which  the  solemn  declarations  and 
warnings  of  the  Divine  law,  which  had  been  wrought  into 
the  mind  perhaps  in  earliest  youth,  still  clung  to  it,  and 
punished  it  with  fears  and  forebodings,  during  the  after-life 
of  license  and  f orgetfulness  of  God  ?  Human  knowledge 
is  soon  forgotten  ;  the  images  of  the  human  poet  are  fading 
and  fugitive  as  the  colors  of  the  frescos  in  the  Vatican ; 
but  the  knowledge  of  the  Divine  law,  and  the  awful 
imagery  of  the  Scriptures  relating  to  it,  are  indestructible, 
and  burn  themselves  into  the  texture  of  the  soul  like  the 
colors  of  encaustic  tiles. 

And  on  the  other  side  of  Revelation,  all  this  is  equally 
true.  The  peace-speaking  promises  of  mercy,  the  doctrine 
of  the  Divine  pity,  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins  and  the 
preparation  for  eternal  life — all  this  portion  of  Divine  truth 
when  once  imparted  is  never  again  expelled.  And  when 
in  the  years  of  sin  the  law  makes  itself  felt,  and  the  trans- 
gressor is  brought  into  consternation,  the  doctrines  of 
grace  which  had  been  conveyed  to  the  mind  many  long 
years  ago  by  the  Christian  teacher  are  all  that  save  it  from 
everlasting  despair,  and  everlasting  perdition.  And  even 
if  this  is  not  the  happy  result,  owing  to  the  inveteracy  of 
vice,  or  the  torpidity  of  the  conscience,  or  the  obstinacy 
of  the  proud  heart,  and  the  soul  goes  into  the  presence  of 
God  unforgiven,  still  the  truths  of  the  gospel  are  not  ex- 
pelled from  the  understanding.  They  will  be  a  portion  of 
the  soul's  knowledge  through  all  eternity ;  the  evidence 
of  what  it  might  have  secured,  and  the  index  of  what  it 
has  lost. 

II.  We  argue  and  derive  the  certain  success  of  evangel- 
18 


410  THE   CERTAIN   SUCCESS 

istic  labor,  in  the  second  place,  from  the  fact  that   God 
feels  a  special  interest  in  hts  own  Word. 

The  Scriptures  warrant  us  in  asserting,  that  God  is  more 
profoimdly  concerned  for  the  success  of  that  body  of  truth 
which  he  has  revealed  to  mankind  in  the  Scriptures,  than 
he  is  for  the  spread  and  influence  of  all  other  ideas  and 
truths  whatsoever.  This  is  the  only  species  of  truth  which 
he  personally  watches  over,  and  accompanies  with  a  Divine 
influence.  He  leaves  human  knowledge  to  itself,  to  make 
its  own  way  without  any  supernatural  aid  or  influence  from 
him ;  but  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  are  not  dismissed 
from  his  hand  with  this  indifference.  We  have  seen  that 
they  have  an  intrinsic  adaptation  to  the  wants  and  woes  of 
the  soul,  and  that  in  this  particular  they  possess  a  vast 
superiority  over  all  earthly  knowledge  ;  but  this  is  not  their 
sole,  or  their  highest  prerogative.  They  are  not  only  re- 
lated to  man,  but  they  are  related  to  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Trom  the  very  depths  of  the  Divine  Essence,  there  issues 
an  energy  that  adds  to  the  intrinsic  energy  of  Kevelation, 
and  makes  it  a  two-edged  sword  quick  and  piercing. 
Powerful  as  the  Word  of  God  is  in  itself,  it  would  fail  to 
touch  and  soften  the  flinty  human  heart,  were  it  not  that 
God  personally  watches  over  it,  and  effectually  applies  it. 
Men  go  into  ecstasies  over  the  discovery  of  a  new  fact  in 
science,  or  a  fresh  and  original  creation  of  the  poet  and 
artist.  There  is  joy  and  pride  in  all  educated  circles,  when 
a  new  addition  is  made  to  the  literature  of  the  nation,  or 
to  the  sum  of  human  arts  and  inventions.  But  there  is 
no  corresponding  and  equal  joy  in  the  Eternal  Under- 
standing, at  such  events.  The  Deity  never  becomes  thus 
profoundly  interested  in  a  poem  or  a  painting ;  in  the  tele- 
graph or  the  steam-engine.  The  "  wisdom  of  this  world," 
we  are  told,  is  "  foolishness  "  with  him.  But  there  is  a 
species  of  truth,  a  form  of  doctrine,  in  which  the  entire 


OF  EVANGELISTIC  LABOR.  411 

energy  of  the  Godhead  is  engrossed,  and  whose  spread  and 
triumph  fills  him  with  deep  eternal  joy.  It  is  that  which 
he  has  deposited  in  the  Scriptures,  and  has  commanded  his 
people  to  teach  and  preach  from  generation  to  generation, 
until  the  whole  world  is  leavened  with  it. 

This  fact  is  clearly  taught  in  the  text.  "  My  word," 
says  God  by  his  prophet,  "  shall  not  return  unto  me  void ; 
but  it  shall  accomplish  that  which  /  please,  and  it  shall 
prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  /  sent  it."  Here  is  personal 
interest,  and  personal  supervision.  These  doctrines  relat- 
ing to  the  salvation  and  destiny  of  man,  are  not  sent  forth 
from  heaven  lonely  messengers,  to  make  their  way  as  they 
best  can.  The  third  Person  of  the  Trinity  goes  with  them, 
and  exerts  an  influence  through  them  that  is  undefinable, 
but  as  almighty  and  irresistible,  within  its  own  sphere  and 
in  its  own  way,  as  physical  omnipotence  itself.  For  there 
is  not  a  human  heart  upon  the  globe,  whose  hardness  is 
impenetrable  to  the  combined  operation  of  the  "Word  and 
Spirit  of  God.  There  is  not  a  human  will  upon  the  planet, 
so  strong  and  stubborn  as  to  be  able  to  overcome  the  union 
of  the  Scriptures  and  the  Holy  Ghost. 

In  this  fact,  then,  we  find  a  second  ground  of  certainty 
of  success  for  evangelistic  labor.  You  may  proclaim  all 
your  days,  your  own  ideas,  or  those  of  your  fellow-men, 
but  you  will  say  with  Grotius,  at  the  close  of  a  long  and 
industrious  career  which  had  by  no  means  been  exclusively 
devoted  to  humanistic  learning  :  "I  have  spent  my  life  in 
laboriously  doing  nothing."  But  if  you  have  passed  your 
days  in  teaching  the  unevangelized,  and  conveying  into 
their  dark  and  blinded  understandings  the  truths  of  the 
law  and  the  gospel,  you  may  say,  at  the  close  of  life,  as  you 
sum  up  your  work,  with  a  clearer  consciousness  than  that 
of  the  pagan  Horace :  "  I  shall  not  wholly  die.  I  have 
erected  a  monument  more  durable  than  brass.     I  have 


412  THE  CEETAIN  SUCCESS 

taught  the  word  of  God  that  liveth  and  abideth  forever, 
to  many  human  souls." 

III.  A  third  ground  of  certainty  that  evangelistic  labor 
will  succeed,  is  found  in  the  actual  instances  of  success  fur- 
nished by  the  annals  of  such  labor.  Men  are  continually 
writing  upon  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  but  there  is  no 
demonstration  like  that  which  proceeds  from  the  practical 
work  of  the  Church  and  the  ministry,  in  bringing  this 
religion  home  to  the  business  and  bosoms  of  men.  This 
was  the  argument  which  the  Primitive  Church  employed, 
to  prove  to  the  pagan  the  Divine  origin  and  power  of  the 
new  religion.  Christianity  must  be  from  God,  argued 
Justin  Martyr  and  Tertullian,  "because  it  makes  the 
voluptuous  man  chaste,  the  avaricious  man  liberal,  the  man 
of  cursing  a  man  of  prayer,  the  implacable  enemy  a  for- 
giving friend,  converts  wrath  into  gentleness,  debauchery 
into  temperance,  and  vice  of  manifold  form  into  manifold 
virtue."  The  fruits  evince  the  reality,  and  the  quality  of 
the  tree.  There  is  always  great  force  in  a  fact.  It  is  tlie 
element  of  reality.  Men  are  realists,  and  they  love  reality 
wherever  they  find  it.  In  this  element,  lies  the  great 
power  of  a  certain  class  of  poets  and  novelists.  Why  is  it 
that  Dante,  and  Chaucer,  and  De  Foe,  so  impinge  them- 
selves upon  the  minds  of  their  readers,  and  make  the  same 
kind  of  impression  upon  them  that  is  made  by  actually 
going  through  the  wards  of  a  hospital,  or  over  the  acres 
of  a  battle-field,  or  out  into  the  warm  sunlight  of  a  June 
landscape  ?  It  is  because  of  the  intense  realism,  the  matter 
of  fact,  that  pervades  the  poem  or  the  novel.  It  is  a  work 
of  the  imagination,  so  far  as  plot  and  costume  are  concerned, 
but  the  imagination  is  employed  with  such  stern  and  intense 
truthfulness,  that  all  fanciful  and  unnatural  qualities  are 
purged  out,  and  the  result  is  a  product  that  is  veritable 
like  actual  life,  and  actual  experience  itself.     Kobinson 


OF   EVANGELISTIC   LABOK.  413 

Crusoe  is  the  prodnct  of  the  imagination,  and  yet  every 
reader  knows  and  feels  that  it  is  as  real  as  his  own  daily 
existence.  But  when  we  pass  from  poetry  and  fiction,  to 
the  very  life  itself  of  man — to  the  tears  which  we  see  him 
drop,  to  the  pain  and  bereavements  which  we  see  him  suf- 
fer, and  to  the  joys  which  we  see  mantling  upon  his  coun- 
tenance— we  understand  still  better  how  powerful  is  plain 
truth  and  reality. 

Now  we  find  what  we  may  call  the  realism  of  Chris- 
tianity, in  the  evangelizing  operations  of  the  Church.  So 
long  as  we  know  the  gospel  only  by  book  and  theory,  we 
do  not  know  it  in  its  most  impressive  and  convincing  form. 
A  Church,  or  an  age  of  the  Church,  that  carries  on  no  mis- 
sionary work,  will  be  liable  to  latent  and  increasing  skep- 
ticism. The  facts  and  forces  of  Christianity  do  not  smite 
upon  it,  and  make  the  gospel  real.  Suppose  that  I  have 
never  myself  felt  the  revolutionizing  power  of  Christian- 
ity, or  have  never  seen  an  instance  of  it  in  another  person : 
will  not  the  theoretical  belief  which  I  may  have  in  this 
religion  be  likely  to  wane  away,  in  the  lapse  of  time  ?  If  a 
power  is  not  exerted,  we  begin  to  doubt  its  existence.  And 
if  an  individual  or  a  Church  witnesses  no  effusions  of  the 
Spirit,  and  no  actual  conversions  of  the  human  soul,  it  will 
inevitably  begin  to  query  whether  there  be  any  Holy  Ghost, 
and  whether  the  gospel  is  anything  more  than  ethics. 
This  has  occurred  in  the  history  of  the  Church.  The 
eighteenth  century  in  England  was  an  age  of  infidelity 
outside  of  the  Church,  and  of  very  inadequate  faith  within 
it.  And  it  was  because  the  Christian  religion  showed  little 
of  its  power,  in  visibly  converting  and  transforming  the 
human  soul.  Men  were  not  actually  born  again,  and  it 
was  an  easy  and  ready  conclusion  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
new  birth  is  fanaticism.  And  whenever  this  notion  enters 
either  the  individual  or  the  general  mind,  unbelief  in  the 


414  THE  CEETAIN  SUCCESS 

essential  and  energetic  truths  of  Christianity  comes  in 
apace.  The  same  remark  holds  true  of  the  German 
Church.  Its  rationalism,  which  has  exerted  so  wide  an 
influence,  was  the  consequence  of  a  decline  of  faith  in 
evangelical  doctrines ;  and  this  decline  of  faith  in  evan- 
gelical doctrines  was  owing  very  greatly  to  the  absence  of 
striking  impressions  from  these  doctrines.  In  the  age 
of  the  Reformation,  the  popular  mind  felt  the  truth  of 
such  dogmas  as  original  sin,  and  forgiveness  through  aton- 
ing blood.  These  truths  evinced  their  power  in  thousands 
of  actual  instances,  and  therefore  they  could  not  be  dis- 
puted or  denied.  But  when  the  energy  and  fervor  of  the 
Reformation  period  had  declined,  and  men  within  the  vis- 
ible Church  itself  lived  on  from  year  to  year  with  little  or 
no  consciousness  of  the  corruption  of  the  heart,  and  of  the 
pacifying  efficacy  of  Christ's  blood  and  righteousness,  it 
was  no  wonder  that  the  dogmatic  belief  of  the  Church 
should  change,  and  in  the  place  of  the  warm  evangelism 
of  Luther,  there  should  rise  the  cold  rationalism  of  Paulus 
and  Wegscheider. 

In  the  actual  success,  then,  of  endeavors  to  convert  the 
Bouls  of  men,  we  find  the  striking  instances,  the  matters  of 
fact,  the  living  Christian  verities,  that  brace  up  our  de- 
clining faith,  and  warm  our  cooling  piety.  The  preacher 
goes  into  a  destitute  town  upon  the  borders  of  our  Western 
or  our  Southern  country,  teaches  the  condemning  law,  and 
proclaims  the  saving  gospel,  to  a  soul  steeped  in  sin.  His 
prayer  of  faith,  and  labor  of  love,  are  rewarded  and  crowned 
with  the  descent  and  personal  presence  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
That  soul  is  converted.  It  undergoes  a  revolution  as  great 
and  momentous  as  that  by  which  Adam  fell ;  for  regen- 
eration is  as  great  a  change  as  apostasy.  That  fact,  that 
actual  exertion  of  Divine  power,  is  known  in  the  heavens, 
and  the  angels  rejoice  over  it ;  and  it  enters  into  the  ar- 


OF   EVANGELISTIC   LABOR.  415 

chives  of  the  Church  here  upon  earth,  and  exerts  an  influ- 
ence. It  is  another  instance  of  the  actual  exercise  of  per- 
sonal power  on  the  part  of  God  the  Redeemer,  and  tends 
to  deepen  and  strengthen  the  faith  of  Christians  in  that 
species  of  power,  wherever  it  is  known.  But  the  annals  of 
missions  are  full  of  such  instances,  so  that  from  year  to 
year  an  intense  and  mighty  Christian  realism  is  issuing 
out  from  all  evangelizing  enterprises,  and  by  a  reflex  action 
is  refreshing  the  faith,  and  consolidating  the  doctrine  of 
the  Churches  that  set  them  in  motion. 

The  power  of  Biblical  truth  even  when  not  proclaimed  by 
the  voice  of  the  evangelist  is  continually  receiving  demon- 
stration, from  this  same  source.  The  records  of  Bible  and 
Ti-act  Societies  are  full  of  instances  in  which  the  bare  text 
of  Scripture  led  to  the  conversion  of  a  human  soul.  Con- 
sider the  following.  A  distributor  gave  a  tract  to  a  young 
man,  accompanying  it  with  some  words  expressive  of  a 
serious  and  affectionate  desire  for  his  salvation.  The 
young  man,  upon  the  departure  of  the  missionary,  threw 
the  pages  into  the  fire;  but  as  they  curled  up  in  the 
flame,  his  eye  caught  the  words  :  "  Heaven  and  earth 
shall  pass  away,  but  my  words  shall  not  pass  away."  As 
these  words  turned  to  ashes  in  the  fire,  they  turned  to  fire 
in  his  mind.  He  found  no  rest,  until  he  found  it  in  the 
blood  of  atonement.  Now,  this  was  an  actual  occurrence. 
It  is  not  a  story  invented  for  the  purpose  of  exciting  in- 
terest in  the  mind  of  a  reader  or  a  hearer.  There  is  not 
the  slightest  mingling  of  imaginative  elements  in  it.  That 
thirty-first  verse  of  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  St.  Mark's 
gospel  was  thus  impressed  upon  the  mind  and  conscience 
of  a  human  being,  in  a  certain  section  of  space,  and  at  a 
certain  point  of  time.  The  time  and  the  place  could  have 
been  specified  under  oath.  Lord  Bacon,  in  laying  down 
the  rules  by  which  the  materials  for  composing  a  history 


416  THE  CERTAIN  SUCCESS 

should  be  collected,  says :  "  We  would  have  our  first  his- 
tory written  with  the  most  religious  particularity,  as 
though  upon  oath  as  to  the  truth  of  every  syllable ;  for  it 
is  a  volume  of  God's  works,  and,  as  far  as  the  majesty  of 
things  divine  can  brook  comparison  with  the  lowliness 
of  earthly  objects,  is,  as  it  were,  a  second  Scripture."  Of 
this  kind  are  the  materials  that  are  collected  and  edited  by 
the  evangelizing  associations  of  the  Church ;  and  of  this 
kind  is  this  incident  which  we  have  recited.  And  it  de- 
monstrates that  there  is  a  converting  power  accompanying 
divine  truth,  similarly  as  an  explosion  proves  that  there  is 
an  explosive  power  in  gunpowder.  How  much  more  vivid 
is  such  an  evidence  of  Christianity  as  this,  than  many  of 
the  volumes  that  have  been  written  for  the  laudable  pur- 
pose of  demonstrating  the  divinity  of  the  Christian  Re- 
ligion. We  by  no  means  undervalue  or  disparage  that 
fine  body  of  apologetic  literature,  which  the  attacks  of  in- 
fidelity have  called  forth,  from  the  second  century  to 
the  nineteenth.  But  we  do  affirm  that  it  all  needs  to  be 
filled  out,  and  corroborated,  by  the  actual  instances  in 
which  Divine  truth  and  the  Divine  Spirit  have  exerted 
their  power.  When  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  evince 
themselves  to  be  mighty,  by  showing  their  might,  and  trans- 
forming, by  actually  producing  transformations ;  when 
the  theory  is  verified  by  the  stubborn  fact ;  we  have  the 
perfection  of  evidence.  This  is  what  the  evangelistic 
agencies  of  Christendom  are  doing.  By  their  steady, 
quiet,  oftentimes  subterranean  labors  among  the  poor,  the 
ignorant,  and  the  vicious  of  teeming  populations,  and  by 
the  record  in  their  annals  of  what  God  has  wrought 
through  their  instrumentality,  they  are  proving  to  the 
doubter  and  the  skeptic  that  God  is  personally  interested 
in  his  own  word  and  watches  over  it ;  that  there  is  a  se- 
cret spiritual  energy  at  work,  of  which  they  know  nothing. 


OF   EVAISTGELISTIC   LABOR.  417 

God  is  hiding  himself  from  the  glare  and  tinsel  of  a  luxu- 
rious civilization,  but  he  is  revealing  himself  to  "the 
poor  of  this  world,  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom 
which  he  hath  promised  to  them  that  love  him."  As  we 
look  over  the  surface  of  society,  we  do  not  find  the  strong- 
est evidence  that  God  is  present  among  his  creatures,  and 
is  interested  in  them,  in  the  fact  that  he  is  raining  down 
upon  them  physical  happiness  and  prosperity.  He  indeed 
comes  near  to  man  in  these  methods  of  his  providence, 
and  this  providential  care  and  goodness  should  lead  to  re- 
pentance. But  the  closeness  of  his  proximity  to  man,  is 
seen  chiefly  in  the  operations  and  methods  of  his  grace. 
When  he  says  to  a  soul :  "  Thy  sin  is  forgiven  thee,"  he 
comes  infinitely  closer  and  nearer  to  his  creature,  than  when 
the  corn  and  wine  are  increased.  ]^ay,  how  do  I  know 
that  there  is  a  God ;  how  do  I  know  it  with  living  cer- 
tainty •  unless  he  touches  me,  and  moves  me  to  cry :  "  My 
Father,  my  Heavenly  Father?"  Carefully  scrutinized, 
there  is  no  argument  for  the  Divine  existence  and  agency 
in  this  lower  world,  that  is  equal  to  the  very  sense  of  God, 
and  feeling  of  God,  which  is  granted  to  a  soul  when  it 
mourns  over  sin,  and  experiences  pardoning  mercy.  "I 
have  heard  of  thee  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  but  now 
mine  eye  seeth  thee,"  may  be  said  of  the  Christian's  con- 
scious faith,  as  contrasted  with  the  worldling's  hearsay  be- 
lief. 

There  is  no  surer  evidence  that  the  truths  of  the 
gospel  are  destined  to  prevail,  than  the  fact  that  they  do 
prevail.  Only  as  the  individual  Christian,  and  the  Church 
at  large,  feel  the  influence  of  the  ocular  demonstration  of 
the  power  of  the  gospel,  will  they  know  that  evangelistic 
labor  is  not  ^e  spilling  of  water  upon  the  ground  which 
cannot  be  gathered  up  again  ;  is  not  the  eternal  drawing 
of  water  in  a  sieve ;  is  not  the  everlasting  rolling  of  the 
18* 


418  THE   CERTAIN   SUCCESS 

stone  to  the  verge  of  the  summit,  and  its  everlasting  fall- 
ing back  to  the  abyss. 

We  have  thus  argued  the  certaintv  that  all  evangelistic 
labor  will  succeed,  from  the  nature  of  the  truth  which  is  pro- 
claimed ;  from  the  fact  that  God  himself  watches  over  and 
effectually  applies  it;  and  from  the  actual  examples  of  suc- 
cess which  fill  tlie  annals  of  the  Church.  He  who  teaches,  or 
is  instrumental  in  teaching,  the  law  and  the  gospel,  teaches 
a  truth  that  is  superhuman  in  its  origin  and  nature,  and  in- 
eradicable from  the  rational  mind.  He  who  teaches,  or  is 
instrumental  in  teaching,  the  law  and  the  gospel,  teaches 
the  only  truth  in  which  the  Godhead  is  profoundly  in- 
terested, and  the  only  truth  which  He  accompanies  with 
a  supernatural  energy  and  influence.  And  he  who  teaches, 
or  is  instrumental  in  teaching,  the  law  and  the  gospel,  will 
see  the  truth  accomplishing  its  purpose,  and  doing  its 
blessed  work  before  his  very  eyes. 

From  the  subject  as  thus  discussed,  we  infer  the  duty  of 
great  courage^  and  confidence^  in  the  work  of  evangelizing 
men.  "We  have  seen  that  there  is  a  strong  and  settled 
foundation  for  such  a  feeling  upon  the  part  of  the  Church. 
God  himself  has  laid  it  in  promises,  oaths,  and  blood.  If, 
therefore,  we  would  possess  it,  and  feel  its  inspiriting  in- 
fluence, we  must  look  intently  and  continually  at  \h.Q  foun- 
dation. We  must  keep  in  mind,  the  superhuman  quality 
of  Divine  truth,  the  profound  interest  of  God  in  it,  and 
the  fact  that  it  is  making  progress  and  conquests.  When 
an  individual  Christian  is  cast  down  and  dispirited  by 
doubts  respecting  his  good  estate,  we  bid  him  look  at  the 
ol)ject  of  faith,  and  not  lose  sight  of  his  Redeemer  in  his 
sight  of  himself.  In  like  manner,  if  the  Church  would 
be  courageous  and  confident  in  this  immense^vork  of  home 
and  foreign  evangelization,  she  must  cease  to  dwell  upon 
the  difficulties  and  obstacles,  and  look  intently  and  solely 


OF  EVANGELISTIC   LABOR.  419 

at  the  power  and  promise  of  God.  Too  many  Christians, 
from  year  to  year,  contribute  of  their  substance,  and  even 
of  their  labors,  and  put  up  supplications  for  the  conversion 
of  the  world,  in  a  half -despairing  temper.  It  is  their  duty ; 
and  they  perform  it  with  something  of  the  hireling's  spirit, 
who  looks  longingly  for  the  going  down  of  the  sun  that 
the  unwelcome  task  may  be  over.  They  forget  the  al- 
mightiness  of  the  Being  in  whose  service  they  are  em- 
ployed, and  whose  plans  they  are  carrying  out.  When 
that  eminent  and  successful  missionary.  Dr.  Morrison,  some 
fifty  years  ago,  was  about  to  sail  to  China,  the  kind-hearted 
but  unbelieving  merchant  who  had  offered  him  a  passage 
in  one  of  his  vessels,  with  good-humored  raillery  said  to 
him  :  "  And  so  you  really  expect  to  make  an  impression 
upon  tl}e  Chinese  Empire."  "  No,  sir,  but  I  expect  that 
God  will,"  was  the  calm  and  confident  response.  In  that 
spirit  he  labored,  and  in  that  sign  he  conquered.  He  did 
not  himself  see  the  conversion  of  the  Chinese  race ;  but 
that  sight  is  as  certainly  destined  to  bless  the  vision  of  the 
Christian  Church  at  the  time  appointed  by  God,  as  Enke's 
or  Biela's  comet  is  destined  to  be  a  reappearing  meteor 
in  the  heavens.'  If  the  planets  are  punctual,  and  dawn 
upon  our  vision  with  certainty  and  regularity,  though  we 
do  nothing  towards  wheeling  them  in  their  orbits,  think 
you  that  tJie  conversion  of  nations  and  races  for  which  the 
promise  of  God  is  pledged,  and  for  which  the  blood  of  in- 
carnate God  has  been  spilt,  will  fail  ?  Let  us  take  this 
lofty.  Biblical  theory  of  missions,  and  we  shall  be  confident 
and  courageous.  Look  not  at  the  hardness  of  the  human 
heart,  but  look  at  the  hammer  and  the  fire  that  break  it 
in  pieces.     I^ook  not  at  the  stubborn  will  and  the  carnal 

'  "Behold  these  shall  come  from  far  ;  and  lo,  these  from  the  north 
and  from  the  west ;  and  these  from  the  land  of  Sinim."   Isa.  xlix.  12. 


420  THE   CERTAIN   SUCCESS 

mind,  but  look  at  Jehovah  who  says :  "  I  will  take  away 
the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and  I  will  give  you  a 
heart  of  flesh."  Look  not  with  a  despairing  vision  upon 
the  hundreds  of  millions  that  are  outside  of  Christendom  ; 
upon  the  tens  of  millions  within  Christendom  who  never 
open  a  Bible  or  enter  the  house  of  God ;  upon  the  crowded 
streets  and  alleys  of  vast  cities,  in  themselves  as  horrid  and 
hopeless  as  the  lazar-house  which  Milton  describes — look 
not  at  this  immense  mass  of  human  sin  and  misery,  but 
look  to  Him  who  died  for  it  all,  who  has  power  to  pardon 
and  purify  it  all,  and  who  commands  you  to  scatter  the 
good  seed  of  the  word  broadcast,  and  trust  Him  for  the 
harvest. 

The  same  law  prevails  in  the  larger  sphere  of  missions, 
that  rules  in  the  individual  experience.  There  mi;st  be  a 
ceasing  to  look  at  the  creature,  and  an  absorbing,  empower- 
ing looking  to  the  Creator  and  Redeemer.  No  sinner  ob- 
tains peace,  until  he  sees  that  the  Divine  clemency  is 
greater  than  his  sins.  So  long  as  his  sins  look  larger  than 
the  Divine  mercy,  so  long  he  must  despair.  Precisely 
so  is  it  with  efforts  to  save  the  souls  of  men.  The  Church 
will  not  be  instrumental  in  evangelizing  the  globe,  unless 
it  believes  that  God  the  Holy  Spirit  is  more  mighty  than 
man's  corruption.  So  long  as  the  work  looks  too  great  to 
be  accomplished  ;  so  long  as  the  ignorance,  vice,  brutality, 
and  apathy,  of  the  sinful  masses  all  around  seem  insuper- 
able by  any  power  human  or  divine ;  so  long  there  will 
be  no  courageous  and  confident  labor  for  human  welfare. 
ISTot  a  missionary  would  ever  have  gone  upon  his  errand 
of  love,  had  his  eye  been  taken  from  God,  and  fixed  solely 
upon  man,  and  man's  hopeless  condition.  Think  you  that 
the  apostles  would  have  started  out  from  the  little  corner  of 
Palestine,  to  convert  the  whole  Grseco-Roman  world  to  a 
new  religion,  if  their  vision  had  been  confined  to  earth  ? 


OF   EVANGELISTIC   LABOR.  421 

Apart  from  the  power  and  promise  of  God,  the  preaching 
of  such  a  religion  as  Christianity,  to  such  a  population  as 
that  of  paganism,  is  the  sheerest  Quixotism.  It  crosses 
all  the  inclinations,  and  condemns  all  the  pleasures  of 
guilty  man.  The  preaching  of  the  gospel  finds  its  justifica- 
tion, its  wisdom,  and  its  triumph,  only  in  the  attitude  and 
relation  which  the  infinite  and  almighty  God  sustains  to 
it.  It  is  His  religion,  and  therefore  it  must  ultimately 
become  a  universal  religion. 

Go  forth,  then,  to  evangelistic  labor  of  any  and  every 
variety,  with  cheerfulness,  with  courage,  and  with  con- 
fidence. And  when  the  vastness  and  difficulty  of  the 
work  threaten  to  discourage,  and  dishearten  you,  look  away 
entirely  from  earth  and  man's  misery,  to  God's  throne,  and 
recall  his  own  word  which  is  settled  in  heaven :  "  My 
thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my 
ways,  saith  the  Lord.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than 
the  earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  my 
thoughts  than  your  thoughts.  For  as  the  rain  cometh 
down  and  the  snow  from  heaven,  and  returneth  not 
thither,  but  watereth  the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring  forth 
and  bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and  bread  to 
the  eater  ;  so  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  my 
mouth  :  it  shall  not  return  unto  me  void  ;  but  it  shall  ac- 
complish that  which  I  please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the 
thing  whereto  I  sent  it." 


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